Chapter 7

What did he say?

Haruka's head snapped up towards the tinted window, her eyes wide with shock. What? She had taken his white. She had beat him into submission. Isn't that what she was supposed to do? Isn't that all she had to do? This wasn't in the contract, was it? She looked back at the broken form, his face bloodied and twisted beyond recognition. But now. She had to take his life? His arms were slack, his fingers gently curled. A soft, gurgled groan came from his throat. She couldn't do that.

Feet rooted, she continued to look on in awe-struck horror. Take his life. Was this really all worth it? Her heart hammered madly in her chest, thoughts screaming at her to do one or the other. What would happen should she refuse? With her fists balled and her jaw locked, the young woman tore her gaze away from her victim and back up to the box. She stood there in defiance. How would he like that?

The crowd was deafening, shaking her to the very bone. They had never seen this before. Generally, people were informed. How could she have not known? This was, after all, a den of sin. Anything could happen here. Everything did happen here. That's how it was. And no one could stop it. Was this a joke? Maybe she was just trying to be funny. Haruka's shoulders shook as she continued to stare, not moving a single inch. No matter how desperate she was, she would never kill a man. She would rather die on the streets from influenza. Her stomach churned violently.

So that's what she had meant. That dog. That lying, filthy dog. He had pulled a fast one on her. She looked down at the dirtied cloth that was held tightly in her fist. Her knuckles were bruising, blood staining her skin. Fifty dollars was a lot of money. A rush of yells and a furious prompt rang over the intercom system. "You or him, scrapper."

You or him.

He was in the same exact position. He was just another dog of the slums. He was just an ordinary person. How could she taken his life? Fury boiled on her core as she definitely stood, her heart still beating heavily against the inside of her chest. They were deafening. The sick bastards. They came here to watch her kill. They came here to bet and gamble on lives. They were the gladiators. This was their coliseum. She was not born to kill men. This wasn't what she was supposed to do.

Without warning, she felt something circle her ankle. In no time flat, Haruka was looking up at the ceiling, that broken fighters white drifting slowly in the air. A hand snatched it out of the air. In the same instance, that very same hand came crashing down onto her teeth. The edges of her smile nipped at her soft lips, puncturing the skin, blood draining down into her throat. What was going on? Her vision sparked white, her face turning to the side. A dull throb tinged her temple. Rapidly blinking, she felt something heavy set itself upon her stomach.

She struggled beneath it, winded and choking when a blow was delivered to her throat. She sputtered, her eyes wide with panic. But everything was blurry. A haze of white. Desperately, Haruka grabbed at the mass on her stomach, trying to writhe out from beneath it. He had been down. She had beaten him to submission. Was this against the rules? What were the rules again? Another blow landed down hard onto her temple. Damnit. He really had to stop doing that. It was making her thoughts all jumbled. How was she supposed to think with a battering ram pummeling her face?

Oh hey. Protect the face, stupid. The thought struck her finally, her arms curling up around her face in a defensive position. He was going to have a hard time hitting her now. He certainly was trying though. His fists were knocking into her forearms, which, in turn, were turning her head from side to side. He was going to kill her. He was…She looked up at his beaten face. A smug grin was tugging at his lips. He had her down. He would live to see another day. Thank God. Praise Him. There was still hope yet.

You or him.

She finally got it. They didn't care about their opponents. For all he knew, she was just the sick puppy that he had to take out back and shoot right between the eyes to put it out of its misery. She was a bag of meat. Not a person. Fingers locked in her sandy blonde hair. He pulled her head up, tired of playing the game, and slammed it back down into the ground. White spots erupted into her vision. Her body began to shake. Adrenaline tore through her system. No. No. No no no. She could not leave them. She made a promise. She wasn't going to just break it. Not like this.

The pain stopped. Her inner voices ceased. She felt as though she was watching it, outside of her body. There was no control. He moved to pull her head back up again, and in that instance, she lurched forward. Mason toppled back, startled by the unexpected force. Quickly, she got up. Blood poured from the corner of her lip. Before he could get to his feet, her fingers were grasping his hair and pulling him. He yelped, trying to claw at her merciless hands. But she didn't hear it. Muscles tense. Her fingers shaking. She could feel the grease upon each and every strand. Oil. Dirt. What a filthy man. She was doing the world a favor.

One. She wrenched his white away from him again.

Two. She pulled her fist back.

Three. With all her might, her knuckles came into contact with his throat. She felt something splinter just in the slightest.

Four. Bringing her hand back, she launched it again. His flesh was being minced around her knuckles.

Five. Again, she launched at his throat. This time, she felt it collapse. He wiggled in her grasp, his fingers desperately clawing and cutting into the hand that held his hair. She wrenched back his head. The sickening snap finally pulled her out.

Mason was done. Collapsed throat would do that to a man. She let go of his hair, dropping him like he was a hot coil. He grasped at her still, his good eye beading. Veins popped up along his flesh with the strain. It was slow. And all she could do was watch in horror. Her stomach fell. She was a killer. Where was the pride in that? She had taken another mans life for fifty dollars. Was this worth it? The crowd shook the stands. Curses. Yells. Excitement. They loved the look in his eye. They loved it. She had sent him to the slaughts. That dog.

Her lip twitched as her fists clenched. He had lied to her. He'd be the next to go. Why stop now. She'd already killed one man. A dark veil settled over her face, her fury mirrored in her emerald eyes. Mr. White. What a joke. With the adrenaline still commanding her actions, the young woman wrenched open the door she had previously come out of, picked up her coat and hat and ran. She didn't want any of those other low lives to steal her clothes. It would mean death for her if that were to happen. The autumn was quite a brutal foe. Her long legs pumped, muscles straining as she made her way up the steps.

He was going to pay. She would make sure of that.

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"You didn't tell him?" Michiru was floored. What did he mean he hadn't told the young cat?

"It may have slipped my mind, yes." The older man shrugged his shoulders helplessly, a small, indifferent smile placed upon her face. What the hell was he thinking? She crossed her arms and moved away from him, her stomach turning a little as she looked down at the body. He twitched and writhed, but he was done for. There was no way that he could survive that. Suffocation was a slow and arduous process. Could take minutes. First he would pass out. Then, well. Then he would just die. It was sort of like watching a candle being snuffed out.

There was no flicker of life in his dull, grey eyes. Nothing.

"Things like this shouldn't just slip your mind." Her voice was stern. Cold. Venomous. He watched as he ran his fingers through his dark hair, a charming grin replacing his smile.

"Come on, Ru baby. Don't be like that." He crossed the distance between them, his arms wrapping around her shoulders. A shudder sparked between her shoulder blades. Something twisted in her stomach. Not right now. Without a word, she moved out of his grasp and leaned over her microphone. She was sure that the young scrapper was bound to go looking for him. She caught a glimpse of the good looking man out of the corner of her eye. That and she had to clean up a certain mess before it got messier. The sooner the better, and she had seen Von Toff wander up to his box moments ago. She would just need to ask for a favor.

Mr. White opened his mouth to say something, but she threw her finger up in a motion to silence him. Flipping the switch of the mic, she spoke into it. "I'm sorry, gents, but it appears as though we're going to need to take an early inter mission tonight. Those sassy dancers should be kicking up their skirts in full swing, now, and the barman should be filling up the bottles, so go take a gander over for a few." The resounding "Aw" or angry curse made her chuckle a little. "Don't worry, fella's. The night is still young!" With that, she flipped the switch again, turning off the device.

"Von Toff is here. I'm going to call in a favor." She didn't care what he said. She didn't care what he felt. Mr. White was going to accept this favor. And he was going to like it. And he wasn't going to complain. She really wanted to punch him right now. This was low brow, even for him. Descending from the announcers booth, she made her way through the sea of men, the lively jazz catching her ears. Laughter. The smell of alcohol. The bright lights and colors. Cards. Girls. Boxing. Booze. It had everything. It certainly did.

Papers to initiate the deal. A flash of sandy blonde hair and of furious green eyes caught her for a second. People were quickly parting, the young cat running up the steps to the office that she was on route to. She looked back, noticing the older man following. They exchanged a knowing glance. "You had better set this straight," she hissed. So what if someone heard her? She was extremely angry at his cowardice at the moment. But, then again, he did this to his fighters all the time. Really. Who would sign up to kill men for money? That seemed slightly crazy. Only someone who truly had nothing else to live for. And those were few and far between.

"Yes yes." He waved her off, an irritated look set upon his face. This could be trouble. That cat, he was a loose cannon. He was pretty sure that, if given the incentive, would snuff out his life. And Mr. White rather enjoyed living. Running his fingers through his slicked hair, he began to climb the steps to his office. He hesitated before opening the door, his hand placed gently upon the handle. All inside was deathly silent. There were no foot steps. No curses. No yelling. Nothing being thrown. But he had seen the young man go in there.

Michiru stood behind him, her hands neatly clasped in front of her as she waited for him to open the door. He looked like he wasn't going to. Such a child. Rolling her eyes, she gave him a little nudge. He had to do this. Quick. Like a band aid. Finally, she heard the latch rise from the door. He stepped in, and she moved quickly after him. Making straight for the desk so she could pick up the proper documents. That husky voice startled her.

"You lied to me." Filled with ice. Her heart stopped in her chest as she sifted through the papers, trying to ignore the conversation that was erupting around her. The door slowly closed, encompassing them all in a heavy silence. This was not her fight. She should leave. But then again…she should also stay. Just in case. Incidents were never a good thing. Generally, one thing led to another and well…the rest was old hash.

"I never lied to you son," came the helpless reply. "It merely slipped my h--"

"Deceitful son of a whore." Haru spat. Michiru dared to look up, noticing the way blood was oozing out of the corner of his lip. Bruises, deep and dark shown brilliantly upon his temples. A cut had grazed over his eye. He had been battered. Like she hadn't known. She had to tell it how it was. Something shook her as she looked back down at the documents.

"Now, Haru, my b--"

"Don't you dare, speak my name, you lying coward! You think this is all fun and games? They are poor men! Men that have nothing! And you think its fun to pit us against each other with the intent to murder?" Michiru noticed the intensity of his voice rising with each word. This was not going to go over well. His fists were shaking, his skin taut over his white knuckles. Papers. Get the papers and get out. But she seemed to be having a hard time finding them. Her mind kept wandering. Sparks flew in the room. And the young cat wasn't letting Mr. White get any words in edge wise. "You son of a bitch." He started to approach, closing the distance between himself and Mr. White.

In a flash, Mr. White was behind the battered scrapper, a barrel to his sandy head. He pulled the hammer back, his eyes dark. No one talked to him like that. Anyone who had was six feet under. Michiru felt her heart stop, her sapphire eyes widening with genuine fear as she froze. Her throat was dry. No one moved. She could almost smell the bullet. Taste the smoke.

"Guess what, boy. I own you. If you want to live to see the morning, you best stop your belly aching, do you hear?" He pushed the scrappers head forward with the barrel. She saw the muscle twitch at the motion. Haru didn't say anything. But his teeth sure were clenched hard. "I can take away everything. And I will before I cut out your tongue, pull out your eyes, dismantle your body limb from limb, and shoot you in the fucking forehead. You are mine. If you forget that again, you remember my words." He clapped him hard over the head with the butt of his revolver, a menacing look in his eyes.

"Ru, before you go to Von Toff, see to it that this boy is cleaned up and ready for the next round." He turned his back on the two, his hand closing in around the door knob. He was going to leave.

"I don't have ti--"

"You do. And you will." It was not a demand. It was a threat. With that said, he exited, the door closing slowly. Sighing inwardly, she straightened herself up, her fingers rummaging through the stacks of papers again. Ah. Finally. Setting the needed documents aside, she moved to the young man's side, her arm upon his shoulder. She really felt bad for him. She really did. A frown tugged at her lips as he jerked his arm away from her.

"Come now, let me help you."

"No." He slowly got to his feet, his knees buckling a little. He was a little worse for wear. How could she be mad at him? Shaking her head, a smooth sigh passed her lips. Then she wouldn't talk to him. Grabbing his arm, she led him towards one of the chairs, heavily suggesting that he sit. Slowly, she knelt down in front of him, a handkerchief held delicately in her hand. Gently she dabbed at the blood that trickled from his lip. They looked soft, even if they were a little swollen.

He was so hostile. Confusing. How did he work? She really wanted to know. There was just something that was nagging at her. Something that was sending off a little bell in the back of her head. He was different. He winced, suddenly, her hand quickly recoiling. "I'm sorry. Are you alright?" She asked, her voice masking shame. She should have been more careful.

"I'm fine. Leave me alone, you're more pain than it's worth." The young man made to get up, but she stopped him, her hands on either side of him. Her eyes lit with a small amount of anger. He was such an ass. She was just trying to help. Apparently, she wasn't good enough.

"And what are you implying?" Her eyebrow twitched a little. She could feel his warm breath tickling her neck. Her stomach gave another twist.

"That you're painful to look at. It's like a cat is clawing out my eyes and a badger is ripping out my throat," his words were vehement. And they stung. Michiru stood, her exterior calm as she threw the cloth right in his face. Muscles shaking just a little, she moved to pick up her papers, a dark look in her eye.

"Go lick your own wounds, you insufferable dog." Quickly, before he could retort and hurt her further, she wrenched open the office door and left. Rapidly, she descended the stairs, the documents clutched tightly to her chest. What a jerk. What had she ever done to him? Nothing. That's what. Taking a deep, calming breath, she let her default smile flit over her lips. No use in letting everyone else see. A figure caught her sights. That girl. Green eyes. Tall. What was she doing. Nodding her head in polite passing, she watched her disappear out of the corner of her eye as she made her way up to the private boxes.

308 Von Toff

She knocked, and almost immediately, a large bald man answered. He looked down at her, his square jaw set in disinterest as he scrutinized her. Was she a threat? This small, fragile looking woman in front of him? No. He could probably snap her neck between his thumb and index finger. He didn't speak, but he moved aside. He knew who she was. He knew that there was business to be had. Nodding her head to him, Michiru moved into the room, the low hanging smoke dimming the light. She stifled a small cough, her eyes burning. Cigars. They were sweeter, sure, but they still smelled appalling.

"Welcome, Miss Kaioh. I see you have a proposition for me." The voice came from somewhere at the front of the room. He was probably sitting in his high chair, looking down at the pit. Gambling. Observing. Hoping to win.

"There seems to be a situation, Mr. Von Toff."

"Please, Miss Kaioh. Call me Alexander. With the right persuasions, any situation can be helped. Proceed."

The door closed.

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Okay. So she was being a jerk. She knew she was. But granted the situation, she had grounds. She had killed a man. Had a gun to her head. And had a handkerchief thrown in her face all in the span of twenty minutes. Her shoulders shook with rage. What an insolent bitch! If she wasn't a woman, she would have just taken her by the shoulders and. And. Well. Given her a good piece of her mind. Yeah. That's it. It would have been the worst tongue lashing that woman would have ever gotten.

Haruka grunted a little as she stood. She tossed the piece of discarded cloth aside. She was fine. There was nothing wrong with her. Her hands shook, her stomach turning. This was wrong. She should never have let him take her off the streets. She should never have let that pen hit the paper. Stupid. She was stupid. She should have known. And now, she was his dog. She had to do as he said. Something prickled along her spine as she walked. Her knees buckled again, but she stayed standing. She would be fine. That guy. Mason. He had really roughed her up, but alls well.

You or him.

Is that how this world had to work? Did some one always have to sacrifice something else so that way another could be happy? If that's the way this world had to be, then she didn't want to be a part of it. 'Well, you should have thought of that sooner, you nit wit.' She shook her head, her fingers scrapping through her hair. Something had seemed off about this place. Why hadn't she trusted her gut? An image rattled her mind. Dying. Weak. Cold. They couldn't survive the winter.

Right.

This wasn't for her. This was for them. Rubbing her face, the young woman wrenched open the door, her feet finding the steps. The band was loud, the dull roar of the crowd seeming to spike her head open. This wasn't going to be pleasant. She knew it. Taking a deep breath, she let her hand slide along the rail. Every pocket. Every groove. Every little rivet. She felt all of the imperfections. But it was still smooth to the touch. Cool. And it was a little calming.

Something warm came over top her hand, causing her eyes to fly open. She looked to her left to see piercing green eyes looking back into her own. Wow. What an assertive woman. Her long brown locks were pulled back, a slight wave dancing along the curve of her neck. Her lips were drawn into a sly smirk, those red lips contrasting rather nicely against her creamy skin. It was the girl from earlier. Haruka let her cocky smirk light her features as she raised an eyebrow.

"What are you doing?" She asked, her voice edged with an underlying line of interest.

"I just wanted to feel the hands of a champion." Her voice was feminine, but with a hint of power. This girl. She knew what she wanted.

"Oh really?" Okay, she was sort of creepy.

"To get rid of the monotony of the average man." She looked over her shoulder towards a man that looked like he was about ready to have a heart attack. He looked completely broken. Haruka almost laughed at him. But. This was no matter to laugh at.

"I'm no champion. These hands are dirty."

"I can make them dirtier." Haruka stared at her for a moment, completely taken off guard. Okay, so she was really creepy. Before she could reply, the young woman moved forward, her lips close to the young woman's ear. "My name is Jordan. I'd like to get to know you, handsome." She felt those lips scrape against her ear lobe. A muscle twitched just under her eye. Generally, you have a mutual introduction before you start with the foreplay. This woman had it all backwards.

"I'm sure you would," she replied cockily. Hey, why not roll with the punches? She felt a tooth graze her skin. Yeah. She was done. Pulling herself away, Haruka winked. "Not here. Later, doll." She gave the young dancer a charming smile before she slipped her hand out from under hers.

"I'll be waiting, champ." She winked back at him. A smug grin had placed itself upon her lips. So that was her game. She was intentionally acting that way. Maybe it was just the way you were supposed to work here? She didn't seem like such a bad girl. But really. She was creepy. But pretty. Maybe she wouldn't be so bad.

"Jordan! Get back up on stage, woman!" A man called. He didn't look happy. In fact, his face looked a little red. Haruka raised an eyebrow before nodding to the young woman. A flicker up above caught her eye. She looked up. Sapphire met emerald. Horror. What was going on? Through the tint of the glass, she saw the hand snake around her wrist.

Haruka watched as she turned at the suggestion. And she was pulled back into the safety of the dark room.

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AN: I'm sorry. You know. How about this. I'm going to update SOMETIME during the weekend. I'll try my best to make it Saturday, but lately, my brother and sister have been coming over and disrupting my zenning process. Hahaha. So. Well. I'm sorry for another late chapter. At least it's here. I know it's moving sort of slow. But. You'll get there soon enough. So. Here it is. I hope you liked it. It was sort of hard for me to write this one since, well, last night I was sort of in this delirious state of foggy headedness. And this morning well…My grandpa is really sick, so I had to drive them into the doctors and be with him and grandma all morning/afternoon. I'm just glad I got this chapter done. With an hour to spare. So that way my head won't roll. Hahaha. OH! I started Bioshock. Hooray for me. I know. I just thought that I would let everyone know. Useless information is always good. Haha. Okay. Well. Onto replies:

ElleJei - I wasn't done with the fight. Hahaha. Which you know, now. But, I can see what you mean. I don't want to have Michiru narrating the fights all the time. I like to get the grim, gruesome details in there, too. But, I'm trying to censor myself, so, in a sense, I'm trying to use Michiru's narration as that aspect. If I don't censor myself (irony haha) then I'm going to have to kick the rating up to M sooner than I want. Eventually, it will get kicked up there, but I don't want to do that yet. Thanks for the input. ^^

Swinging Cloud - You're lucky I heart you so much. Because I was going to end this chapter on a cliffhanger too. But you know. I could have done that anyways. Because you don't read this story. Ever.

Petiyaka - Awww. -smashes your hope- Hahahaha. I'm just kidding.

CoOkiE86 - Is that better? I know I can get a little confusing, but I tried to be better about it this chapter. I refer to Haruka as a man when I'm in Michiru's point of view, simply because she doesn't know that Ruka is a girl yet. I cater to the whim of the character I'm writing to. Surly, it'll be cured in a near future chapter, so maybe it won't be as confusing. I hope it was okay. Thanks for your input.

T. - What? No T? WHAT?! The world has come to an end. -sadface-

Anyways. Any questions. Comments? I love reviews. They make me feel all warm and bubbly inside. So. You should leave them! And I'll get back to your concerns in the following chapter. Heart. I'll see you guys next week.