Chapter 4

There was nothing left to be said. Nothing left to be had. That man had dismissed her with the wave of his hand, and now his attention was focused upon a paper that was laid out before him. Asshole. A scowl pulled at the corners of her lips as she moved to leave. He wasn't going to talk to her. Hell. He wasn't even looking at her. Haruka scoffed outwardly, shoving the twenty dollar bill deep into her pants pocket.

What a rats nest.

With her shoulders back, her chin high, and her demeanor proud, the young blonde took her leave, those long legs guiding her down the steps. They were all still calling. Yelling. "I love you!" Or, "Have my babies!" or most commonly, "Marry me!" All they were interested in was her body. What about the music? Her personality? Her snobby. Strict. Tight. Personality? Was looks the only thing that mattered to these people? Those green eyes fell upon one of the dancers, her breasts popping from the bodice, her skirt shorter than necessary. How demeaning. The way she hung herself off the drunkard with the rich suit. The way she pressed her chest against his arm and asked him if he could 'show' her. Show her what, Haruka really didn't care to know.

How could men allow themselves to fall so far? It was a question that had been plaguing her for years. There would never be a set answer, unfortunately.

There was nothing left for her here. She had gotten what she came for. She couldn't afford a drink. She couldn't afford a gamble. She couldn't afford anything. With her hands in her pockets, the young woman made her way through the rapidly dispersing crowd. The main attraction (and she would say again that she was mighty attractive) was no where to be seen. What was the point of standing around the stage like a bunch of love struck imbeciles. Really. What was the point in staying in the company of the daft? She needed to be home.

With a sense of new found urgency, the young woman made her way outside, the cool night air soothing the small throb in her nose. Maybe she should clean up before her mother saw her. Chiding herself, she shook her head. Nah. What was the point in lying? It never got anyone anywhere. Just seemed to make a mess out of things. The door closed slowly behind her standing form, her body cutting a shadow in the light. Now that she thought about it…where was Charles supposed to be? Well. Good job. She should have thought of that before she left. She rolled her eyes at herself.

Something moved. A dark shadow. Slender. Quiet. Her muscles tightened a little as she turned to face the persona. But nothing was there. Her scowl deepened as she moved towards it. She was sure it was there. Perhaps it was Charles. Or maybe it was someone trying to play a nasty trick on her. She wouldn't doubt that. Then again, she wouldn't really doubt anything in regards to the Slaughts. Haruka was sure that it would live up to anything. Nothing would surprise her. She wouldn't let it.

"Hello?" Cautiously she continued to move forward, the moonlight dancing eerily off of the alley beneath her feet. Silence met her straining ears. So she moved closer. With her eyes adjusting to the dim light, her eyebrows rose a little in shock and confusion. So she blurted out the first thing that came to her mind, "You're not Charles."

A chuckle. Was it real? Or was it fake? She raised an eyebrow. Right. Stupid. It was the violinist. Maybe she was out here for a smoke break? What? Wasn't like she had to use her lungs to produce beautiful music. All she had to do was wave her wrist around and put her fingers in the right place. In fact, Haruka was almost certain that the young woman, because of her long and potent addiction to tobacco, had a wretched, gnarled and raspy voice. No girl was perfect. If they had a pretty face, their voice was either one of two things. Unbearably irritating or completely brain dead.

"You're right, I'm not." Wait. What? A small shiver raced down her spine. Her tongue was stayed. God damnit. She really had to stop making up those ludicrous stories. Her voice was like silk, smooth against her skin. Cream against her tongue. It was gentle, soft, warm. But it held the faintest edge of sadness. It was not something uncommon in these times. No, it was deeper than that. Her voice was like that violin. Crying. Yet, it was so beautiful, that you couldn't stop listening to it.

Oh God damnit.

That meant that it was the later of the two. A completely brain dead bitch. Haruka wasn't so sure, though. She'd never seen such an elegant looking 'bitch.' She seemed polite enough, but maybe it was just a façade. Probably.

"Turn around and take the first left. That's where he should be." Who should be? She almost asked the dumb question. A disgruntled look fell upon her face at the realization. The girl was quickly moving past her, her sapphire eyes flicking up for just a few seconds to lock with her own. But she looked away rather quickly and muttered her farewell even more so. Ah. She wasn't comfortable in her presence. Haruka got it. She knew what was going on. So she was a snob, after all. For a moment, she thought otherwise. Maybe she should stick to her crazy stories. It was far more entertaining that way.

As usual, too quick to judge.

Without another thought, the young woman turned on her heel and followed the directions that had been given to her. She wouldn't say a word to Charles. Or to any other that followed.

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The dark night churned the sky, the cry of owls breaking the silence that pervaded the darkness. Something cool dripped down from the damp canopy, the wind slicing through the light fabric as if it were non existent. The small flame flickered and danced, death waiting to take the hot embers, to quench the burning thirst that the orange flames held. The earthen floor was littered with pebbles and scraps of years past newspapers and magazine clippings, perhaps to keep something warm. The shelter was small, maybe ten feet wide and ten feet long. The wood was rotting, mites and little critters darting in and out of the hazardous pockets, chewing and gnawing. Mice scuttled along the ground quickly. At least they knew not to stay. The air was damp. Cool. There were no chairs. No beds. No table. There was nothing. Save one, sole blanket. Something laid curled up beneath it. Perhaps it was a dead dog. A person? Garbage.

The fire light cast the room in an unnerving shadow. The spiders leapt and danced. The hiss of the flames crackling in ears. And there, a man sat, his back against a wall. Weathered. Worn. Lost. He looked to the dirty newspapers beneath him, his face cast in those same shadows. He looked feeble. Old. Tired. No amount of heat could extinguish the chill that had taken over. There was nothing for him. There was nothing for her. But they had to keep on living. He shifted in the night, his mind wandering for the thousandth time that evening. Where was she?

A cough broke the silence, his muscles jolting a little as he looked towards the blankets. His face drew down into a soft frown as he put his hand in his tattered coat pocket. At least it provided some warmth. Damn these autumn nights.

"Ken?" The voice was broken. Shaken with the rot. The man struggled to his feet, pain lacing in his tired forest eyes. He dragged himself closer to the blanket, his hand still securely in his coat pocket.

"I'm here," he said. What came to his ears was not a sound that he was proud of. Years before, it would have been a sound of comfort, warmth, strong stability. But now, it was nothing. Just as he was nothing. Just as they were nothing.

"Have you seen--"

The crunch of gravel outside of the rickety little abode cut the voice off. A car door opened, a person stepped out. The headlights pierced through the darkness like a saber. It burned his retinas. What was going on? A voice spoke softly outside, but there came no reply. What was said? No one could really say for sure. The man tensed as he waited, a figure making the darkness feel even darker. Something shouldered through the curtain. And immediately, the man frowned.

She stood, her face broken, blood caked against her pale skin. A bruise had begun to make its appearance just below her right eye. Her lip was a bit swollen, and her cheeks were still flushed. Exhaustion was lit in her dull green eyes, her breath regulated as she moved the rest of the way in. Something was bottled, though. A flash happened to break through the fatigue. Something had happened.

"Haruka, where have you been?" He didn't mean to sound so mean. It just happened to fall out that way.

She shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly, her exterior cool and collected. Figures. "Around." She was going to avoid the question at all possible costs, just short of lying. Hey, she didn't say that she was going to tell them everything.

"Come clean, girl, before my belt finds your face!" He was serious.

"Don't be so senile, old man. You can't even lift yourself from the ground, let alone reach up and peck me upon the cheek," she smiled. There was no blood between her teeth. Her smile was dazzling and enchanting as ever. She wasn't afraid. Without saying anything else, she crossed the small distance and knelt below the older man. Her arms wrapped around his glass form, providing him a sound and reassuring hug.

"We've been worried sick!" He was obviously irritated.

"Well, you should be! Look at this mess! What if someone important were to visit?" She was teasing.

"Haruka." He wasn't going to have any of it.

"I said, don't worry. When I say don't worry, then don't worry. I'm here. I'm fine. I'm safe. I'm mostly unharmed. And I have a surprise." A wolfish smile spread across her handsome features as she thrust her hand into her pocket. Boy, would they be excited. And next week, she could really do something. Make a bigger dent in the situation.

"When my daughter comes home in the dead of night, blood covering her face, and accompanied by an automobile, I will worry! What happened to you?" He watched her closely for a few seconds before he saw her bloodied knuckle slip out of her pocket. Something green caught his eye. "HARUKA, YOU DIDN'T!" Anger flared in his eyes. For a second there, she was almost confused. But she knew that he would jump to this.

"Wait, listen to me befo--"

"This family does not steal, Haruka! We are honest people that live day to day and take what He brings. If you're weak enough to resort to that, then you are no daughter of mine, do you hear? We brought you up better than this, young lady! If you wish to remain a part of this family, you will go back to where ever you took that from and give it back! And I don't want to hear another word about it!" The words were pouring from his lips so fast, that it almost made her dizzy. At the conclusion of his small speech, she let a loud laugh call from her lips, her hand placed heavily upon her fathers shoulder.

"If you would let me finish before you started in, then I would have told you that I have found work. Easy work. Call it a regular job, if you will." He looked at her flabbergasted. There was work to be had? Maybe she could get him a job too! Before he could ask, though, she opened her palm to reveal the twenty dollar bill. They would be able to eat.

"Haruka! What?

Wait.

There.

Work?

It's not the illegal kind, is it? Are you joshing me?" He was jumping subjects quickly. Twenty dollars. That was a lot of money.

"No. A real job--"

"Where?"

"I…" What was she supposed to say? She couldn't tell him about that place. It was a secret best left in the closet. "Oh, we'll just say I saw one of your old customers and he offered me something." A lie. She was sure she would regret that one later. Well. Maybe he had come into the bar once or twice. For some reason, Haruka didn't really think that their little business would have been Mr. White's sort of place. Her nose wrinkled a little at the thought. He was a pompous know it all. Nothing mattered except for number one. Himself. She was sure that he only had his own interests in mind. She just couldn't figure out what he wanted with her. Yet.

His face fell. Those lips parted to start schooling her again, but she beat him to the punch before he had a chance. "Listen, it doesn't matter. What matters, right now, is that we have enough money. I know there's only enough for a few more days. I know that things aren't going as well as you pretend they are. I know these things, old man. But I also know that things are starting to look up. Look!" She pushed the bill towards him again, her eyes light with a boyish excitement. "Things are starting to turn. Everything will be okay. We can afford what we need, now. Don't question the source. And for chrissake don't be such a god damn pest." She hugged the older man again.

For the first time in a year, he felt something warm bubble in the pit of his stomach. Hope. The candle had been lit. It only took one instance to snuff it out. But, by hell, it had better bring a hurricane, because he was sure that they wouldn't go down without a fight.

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It had been days since their meeting. Since that dark alley. Yet Michiru continually found her mind wandering. Where ever she was, in her room, during a lesson, eating, drawing, painting, it would always come back down to those eyes. Those desperate, edgy green eyes. And every time, the memory left a cool taste in the back of her throat. Sent a chill right down her spine. There was no need for it. Sure, she didn't get to see them all that much, but it wasn't like they were the first to ever really look into. There was something different about that young man. Her eyebrow quirked a little. How unladylike. She chided herself.

"..oh.."

She shifted a little in the cushioned seat in which she sat, her legs crossed neatly at the ankle beneath her slender waist. Her hands laid delicately in her lap, her blue dress dark against her pale skin. For an autumn day, it sure was nice outside. It wasn't too cold, and there wasn't a single cloud to be seen against the blue sky. How lonely. She felt something twist in her chest. A small frown threatened to pull at the corner of her lips. However, she was so used to keeping that smile firmly in place, she caught herself without realizing.

"..Kaioh.."

The words were a faint buzz in her ears, her eyes fixed pointedly straight forward. There sat a man in his mid to late thirties, his face beading with sweat. Why was he so warm? How odd. Well. Maybe not. He was grossly large (in her opinion) with an almost nonexistent neck. His tie, she imagined, was probably cutting the circulation off to his brain. How brilliant. Maybe he would fall over and die. Now wouldn't that be interesting. Death by neck tie. She really wanted to laugh. It stayed in her throat. He had beady eyes that stared at her, and when he spoke, his second chin was so mesmerizing, it was near impossible to look away from it. That's what really had her so enthralled.

"Ms. Kaioh!" His voice was every bit of fat as his body was. But it finally had broken the spell his physique had cast upon her. With a small nod of her head, she was pulled back to the present. What was going on? Right. Business meeting. Apparently, he was in possession of some valuable assets that the company would find helpful. She had been meeting and negotiating with him constantly for years. He was a family friend. But. God. He was just so…

Greasy?

Slimy?

Morbidly obese?

Any of those terms would have been accurate, if not all of them. And then some. These weekly negotiations and business luncheons were really beginning to drag her down. She hated attending them. She hated the way those beetle eyes roved over her. She hated the way he drooled. She hated the way that she felt afterwards. It would be just like any other time. Her hands clenched a little beneath the table as she flashed him another pleasant smile.

"Pardon me, Mr. O'Neil. All of the long nights seem to be getting the best of me. Please, do continue," she said. Her voice was light and encouraging. But she really wasn't listening. She didn't care. At all.

Every week, it was the same thing. They would have lunch at Gaffigan's. A small café with an outdoor patio. It was road side, and generally, they would sit outside if it was nice, but inside should it rain. After the first two months, there were no longer body guards with her. What was the point? There was a person waiting to take her back to the company. But there was no one really other than the two business people and the everyday customer. This day was like every other. They sat outside on the patio, talked about the future and what should be done. She would watch the people come in and out of the hospital, or listen to other more interesting conversations that were beside her, yet she always managed to make him think that she cared. Ha. What a joke.

"What do you think?" Something brushed against her thigh. Her jaw clamped tightly at the sensation, her eyes quickly darting down to look at her assailant. It was merely her own napkin dropping from her lap. Her heart raced. Silly girl. Gracefully, she bent down and picked it up. Maybe he wasn't going to.

"I think that it would be in the best interest of both companies to wait." Her eyes lit with a double meaning. He brought a fat finger to his lip, then shook his head. He wasn't so sure. Something twisted in her stomach. Negotiations weren't going as planned today. She knew this. But she couldn't. Her throat became a little dry as she dabbed her napkin to her lips, then placed it down upon the table neatly.

"Perhaps we should part for the afternoon," she suggested. God, she really hoped that he would just leave. He was so creepy. Something brushed against her leg.

"But we aren't done, Ms. Kaioh," his words chilled her to the bone. That knot began to develop in her stomach again. Careful, now. She had to be careful around him. What was she supposed to say to the head of the company? She wanted body guards? Why? This man posed no threat. Yet…every time this always seemed to happen. Michiru was sick of it. But she was, once again, still tied. She cleared her throat, hiding a nervous yelp that issued when she felt something crawl along her calf. This time, she was well aware that it was not her napkin.

"I was under the impression that we had sorted through everything that which needed sorting, Mr. O'Neil." Her heart began to race the further it progressed. She wanted to get up and walk out, but she knew that it would be the downfall of the company. Perhaps if she just touched lightly upon the subject…No. That wouldn't work either. It wasn't her place.

"Not quite." Nope. She couldn't do it.

"I believe we're through here, sir. I'll take my leave and bid you good health until next week." She didn't want to even think about his snaky little fingers touching her skin. But he was. He certainly was. For the past few weeks he had been thinking about it. Testing it. And each time, she had managed to get out of the dangerous situation before it had even started to rise. But he had been making progress. And today, she feared, he would gather enough courage to just. Well. The only reason why he was here helping the company that she represented was because he had an interest in her. It was bad for his own business to be helping them. To be providing assets. What did they really gain in return? Power? Money? Protection? Perhaps. She didn't like to go into the nitty gritty details. It was unbecoming.

He grunted a little as he stood, his eyes bearing down heavily at the blue haired violinist. Michiru smiled politely, as if she didn't notice. A lady right until the end. Nodding her head, she also stood. A gentleman should always stand when a lady leaves. Good. He was going to let her go. This wasn't his lucky day. But it certainly was hers. Turning to leave, she felt something encircle her wrist. Suddenly. Forcefully. Her eyes shot open as she was whirled around, the shorter, stubbier man stronger than he initially appeared. His jowls shook with anger as he spoke.

"You'll find my health to be superb, Ms. Kaioh. Would you be so kind as to help me with something, though? I think a key element is…lacking in my proposal." Okay. So she had been wrong many times before. This just happened to be one of them. Her stomach lurched again, her smile faltering for a quick second before she tried his grasp. Vice like. Great. This was going to get messy. She couldn't very well punch him. Her veins crawled, her breath becoming quickened. She shook her head to try and rid herself of these thoughts.

He saw it. Read it. Interpreted it. He was going to have what he wanted. His jaw clenched tightly, his hand wrenching her towards him. She let out a small cry, her slender body slamming heavily against his own. He liked that. Her eyebrows screwed up as she felt her wrist being twisted. There was no one. It was a quiet afternoon. And there was no one. She let out a small whimper, her teeth clamping down onto her lower lip.

"Mr. O'Neil. If you do not unhand me this instant, there will be severe consequences that will, in accordance, be thrown into effect. Please, if you leave me be, I will forget about this little misunderstanding and speak of it to no one," she was trying to compromise her way out of the situation. Oh, Michiru, you silly silly girl. Her voice was not very threatening, but the tone was, one could say, rather dark. His devotions wavered for a split second before they hardened again. He would have her. This was his. He had been watching her for months. Years. This is what he deserved. The way she said his name. The way that she bit her lip in indecision. She wanted him to take it. That's what they liked. Women were so complicated. It was a good thing he got it.

He pulled her wrist harder, yanking it around her back and up, his nose brushing along her neck. She was just faking it.

"Please, unhand me, I'm warning you," her voice quaked a little. He was lost in his resolve. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Just don't struggle. She did, after all, wish to live to see tomorrow.

"Sir, I believe the young lady asked you to take your hands off." The voice cut through the tension. She wanted to turn her face and look, but she couldn't. It was probably the waiter. The request seemed about right. But the voice…it was just a little off. Not what she really remembered, anyways. Her eyes closed.

"Go away, son. Someday, you'll understand what a woman wants," was his gruff reply. He gave another sharp twist to Michiru's wrist. She let out another cry, her eyes screwed shut.

"Let me say it again, in case your fat was blocking your ears. Get your greasy paws off," the voice was threatening, gruff, and angry. She bit down harder upon her lip. He didn't even dignify that with a reply. He moved them both forward and she stumbled, her knees buckling. Caught unawares, she was.

A sickening snap. A cry of absolute pain echoed through the empty café, those stubby fingers releasing her from their cruel grasp. Her skin seemed to burn where he had touched her. She felt sick. Slimy. Dirty. And most of all, she tasted a metallic, warm substance race down her throat. She had bitten her lip too hard, it appeared.

"Go find yourself a dog next time, you pig headed sewer rat." Michiru stayed where she was upon the ground, her hand held close to her chest. She didn't dare open her eyes. Just hearing the thud and the groan was satisfying enough for her. At least the situation had been dealt with.

"Are you okay?" her savior asked, voice smoky. Slowly, she turned to look at him, her eyes widening with shock. It was an awkward moment. Both, she was sure, felt the same emotion. Confusion. But quickly, it was washed away when the young man pulled her to her feet, setting her upright.

"Y-yes, I'm fine," she replied, her voice shaking. It was obvious that she was not. Her eyes drifted to the crumpled form of Mr. O'Neil, his hands clutching between his legs. Just desserts.

"Okay." Was the swift reply. Seeming satisfied with the answer, the blonde turned and began to walk away, a white bag held protectively in his chest. Michiru looked after him, her eyebrows creased with confusion. So. He was just going to leave her there?

"Wait!" She called out behind him as she moved forward. That same unnerved feeling roused in her chest. He was so…different. She couldn't place it. Moving after him in an attempt to catch him, the young violinist grabbed his wrist. He stopped and looked at her, those emerald eyes guarded.

"What." Gruff. Short. Clipped. It was as if he hated her. He didn't even know her.

"I would like to extend my thanks," she replied, her voice wavering in the slightest. He was so brash.

"Well don't." He shook his hand from her grasp, her skin sparking a little. She had almost been…what…? What had she done? Had she offended him somehow? A frown threatened to light, her eyebrow creasing gently.

"But you just--"

"I don't need any thanks, least of all from someone like you." Someone like her? She blinked again. Okay, so he had a pretty face. He was handsome. But. It was good that he pretended like he had never seen her. It was the way that this was supposed to work. Had he told him to do this? She wasn't so sure. He seemed to skip over a lot of things, generally. It stung. Michiru scowled a little. He would get her thanks and he would accept it, damn it!

The young blonde began to move away again, and this time, she let him. However, she followed. She was going to follow. Until he looked back and acknowledged her and accepted that which she wanted to give. Either he would accept it, or she would die trying.

God, what a stupid stray.

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AN: Well, here it is. First off, I'd like to apologize about the delayed update. I had a party this weekend and yesterday we all went out to the lake and well…seeing as I'm whiter than a ghost, I got the hell burned out of me. I was too tired to write last night, it wouldn't have been very cohesive, and even know, I'm still unsure. But what ever, at least they're together, right? (The savior is Haruka, for those who need the extra little hint.) Uh…well. I'm supposed to go over to my friends house right now, since a great friend of mine is moving tomorrow, therefore, I should probably cut this one rather short. As a result of the delayed update, I'll most likely update sometime during the week, just to say sorry.

As usual, if anyone has any questions, drop me a review and I'll reply! Which means it's that time of day, folks:

Petiyaka - Thanks! ^^

T - I loved your little ramble. It made me happy, really. You'll learn who Mr. White is soon enough. I actually can't believe I haven't revealed him yet. It's four chapters into it, and I still haven't given away anything. Amazing.

Lostinhersong - Will do!

Dreaded Demon of Night - Well, here it is, huh?

Tripower - You'll see. I'm glad you like it. And I know it was a little short, but that's the way that I intended it to be. Now you have something much more meaty to read. Isn't it exciting?

Anon - I appreciate the review. I like doing things my own way, and with the whole underground fighting thing, I thought that something sassy like "Ru" would be more fitting. I don't like the whole not good at grammar too. It sucks. x_x

Swinging Cloud - Happy now? I told you I'd have it up tonight, didn't I? Epic win. Now I'm going to go eat some chimichongas.

Well, till next chapter, everyone!