"Hi, could you come up?" Len tossed his gun onto the bed, holding the phone between his shoulder and his ear, leaning against the table. He examined the red pool spreading beneath his feet.
"What happened?" the gruff voice responded. Len glanced at the floor again and grimaced, nudging the head away from his person. He was dead tired from dealing with the remaining rogue dealers from last night, and the only thing he wanted was to come back to his room and get a good night's sleep.
Well, apparently that wasn't going to happen. He hated dealing with the aftermath of his job. Bodies were really annoying to dispose of properly. "Your security bloody sucks, that's what happened. Some guy barged into my room trying to steal my stuff. Fucking idiot. Didn't you tell them that this room was out-of-bounds?" he groused, giving the man the evil eye. "Can't they go rob the sorry bastard staying down the hallway to the right? Do your damn research before trying to break into a room," he continued to grumble. The man on the other end of the line sighed, quietly muttering something.
"Okay, I'll be up with a body bag and a bucket," the man hung up and Len put the phone down, carefully stepping over the corpse and plopping down on the mattress. He saw the bloody footprints on the wooden floor and winced, realising he should have taken off his shoes before walking around the room. Cleaning up was going to be a real hassle later…oh well, it was already done anyway.
The receptionist came up to his room really quickly. Less than five minutes after placing the phone call, Len heard a knock. He had just managed to take his boots off and now, he laid the boots to one side and got off the bed, making his way to the door as he carefully avoided the splatters of blood. He looked through the peephole and saw the inn's owner, so he opened the door and quickly ushered the man inside before anyone unwelcome could barge into the room. One could never be too careful – for all he knew this dead man had an accomplice who was just as stupid as he was.
"This is the third time you've killed a man in my hotel," the owner complained, brandishing the bucket and the body bag. Len made a face, taking hold of the bag – he would rather dispose of the body than clean up the mess. The owner grudgingly got to work. "I know that you're on the run, but seriously…sometimes I wonder whether the amount you pay me is worth letting you stay in here."
"I know, I know, you tell me that every time I come to stay here," Len unzipped the body bag, picking up the dead man's legs and dragging him across the floor. A trail of blood and grey matter spread across the wood, much to the owner's consternation. "But still you allow me to book a room. You know I help keep the hotel peaceful while I'm around. Usually, at least," he hauled the guy into the bag, grunting a little as he tried to squeeze the body inside. This man was a little bit overweight.
"Yeah, but…" the owner's voice trailed off as he mopped up the blood, "just wondering, how did you get rid of that one?" he tilted his head towards the bag, which was now halfway zipped. Len looked up, in the process of yanking on the stuck zip, and stared at the owner – he rarely asked him about that, preferring to know as little of his customers' troubles as possible. "You made quite a mess this time," the owner explained, gesturing at the fluids that were splattered all over the wooden floor.
"Oh…that's a good question. This guy was obviously stupid enough not to research whose room to rob. Probably decided to try his luck with the VIP suite, because obviously whoever lives here must be rich," Len snorted and shook his head, finally yanking the zip up all the way. He'd dump the body in the ocean or something later. "He's really a complete moron…well, if he succeeded in kidnapping me he would be rich, but come on, he obviously isn't good enough to do that. I got really pissed off because he barged in less than three minutes after I climbed in through the window, I guess he thought that the room was empty…I heard him coming inside so I waited behind the door and stuck my gun through his mouth and blew out his brains. It was really quick. I gave him a faster death than he deserved."
"That explains the suspicious patch on the wallpaper," the owner deadpanned, staring at said patch. Len shrugged. "I should turn you over to the authorities so I could get all that money too, but I value my life more than the reward. No point in being rich when you spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder, waiting for the world's top assassin to hunt you down," he shook his head. "I must be insane, letting you stay in my hotel like that," he muttered. "As if the normal riffraff who come here aren't bad enough. Well, you have one more week before I'm kicking you out of here."
"You don't need to sound so eager, my feelings are hurt," Len sighed, dragging the body bag towards the door and leaving it next to the wall as a reminder to bring out the trash later. He wasn't in the mood to do it now…or maybe he could just pay one of the gang members living on the floor below to do it for him. He would have to think about that. He didn't trust people to do things for him.
The owner gave him a long stare, in the midst of mopping up the blood and other gory matter on the floor. There was a lingering smell of rust, which he would have to get rid of later too. Not that Len minded, actually. He had smelled a lot worse in his line of work. Sometimes people knew that he was coming and they would literally shit their pants when he showed up. Things would often get messy. "I would rather not earn the money you pay me than let you stay here for too long and be killed by those aiming for the bounty on your head," he said flatly. "As if I don't have enough trouble catering to people like you…sometimes I really feel like shutting this place down," he shook his head, going back to his cleaning. Len dumped the body bag and stretched, looking at his hands. There was blood…
"I'm going to wash my hands," he announced, ignoring what the owner had said just now. It wasn't the first time he was complaining about this issue anyway – but he knew the man would never shut down Pyre Leaf Inn. It was the only thing that was keeping him alive now. He had seen too much as a result of this job, and if he ever closed the place down there would be people coming out from the underworld to try to silence him. In their world, only the dead could be trusted to keep a secret.
"Take that out with you, just dump it in the trash out front. A friend of mine is clearing it tomorrow and we'll both pretend that we didn't see anything," the man grimaced. "Bad karma, leaving such things lying around like that. And knowing there's a dead man upstairs…it gives me the heebie-jeebies."
It was Len's turn to give the man a long look. "Sure. You make sure that you pretend not to have seen anything," Len reached out to the bed, grabbing the gun he left there. He glanced down at the firearm and lifted his gaze to the man, who was watching him warily as well, before tucking the gun into his coat. "I'd really hate to have your name next on my hit list, so just be careful what you say."
Len turned and opened the room door, stepping out into the dingy hallway and towing the black body bag behind him. The door creaked shut, leaving a bloody handprint on the brass doorknob, and the owner sighed. There was no doubt in his mind that, out of all the customers he ever had staying in his inn, Kagamine Len was by far the worst. The ruthless assassin invited nothing but trouble.
"I don't understand people sometimes," Len grumbled to himself as he dragged the body bag down the staircase. "Why would you choose to break into an assassin's room? Really? Did he actually have a death wish?" he glanced behind him at the heavy body bag. He wasn't in the mood for this.
Maybe he did have a death wish. Well, he got that wish fulfilled in that case. It was a painless death, Len knew – one second the gun was in his mouth and the next second the bullet was cutting through his brain. Even if he hadn't wanted to die, at least he went quickly. Len could have chosen to make the process long and painful, but he didn't feel like messing around today. He just wanted a good night's sleep. Last night he barely got anything, so he was exhausted. It was bad enough that even Miku could tell…
He exhaled. Miku – in all honesty, she wasn't that bad a shot. She was doing pretty well for someone who never even held a gun before. He could remember his first time shooting as clear as day. Not a single bullet had gotten near the target. He smiled fondly at the memory – it was so long ago, when he was eight years' old…he was twenty-four now. Time sure flew by quickly. For sixteen years he had wandered around with no clear sense of direction or purpose, but meeting Miku gave him one. Len never believed in God before this, and actually he still didn't, but now he sometimes thought that maybe there was some force out there steering him through his complicated life. Things seemed to be looking up.
She accepted what she knew of him. It was a good start. She knew about his job, and that alone did not chase her away, for which he was grateful. Few women ever stayed past that stage. She might not know what he was like when he was working because he was always so humorous around her, but he hoped that this was a part of him she would never uncover. He'd love to have her in every part of his life but there were certain things that were just too dangerous, and him at work was one of them. After all, she was just an ordinary girl sucked into something far beyond her control.
Rin would say that Miku could learn. Yeah, that was Rin. Rin was special – she had never been like one of the ordinary people who walked down the street, going through the motions of living until the day they died. And if one was not Rin, they would have to train from young to be special...there was a difference between being trained to kill as a child, and doing the same when you were older. It was why he was so sought after, why people claimed he was the best assassin in the world. He lived to kill, it was the only thing he knew how to do, and he never had to struggle with the idea of feelings or a conscience.
Maybe his circumstances made him unique. Both him and Rin were special, after all. At least that was what he was told while growing up. With only the faces of strange men and women conducting tests, day after day after day, asking how much pain he felt, waiting for him to scream in anguish before they would stop hurting him – he had always been a blank slate. He was never taught any morals so he didn't have any. And his training simply reinforced that lack of conscience. He was surprised he even knew how to have feelings anymore, actually – maybe this was the only part of him left that resembled humanity. So in this sense, wouldn't it mean that Miku…made him human?
The ability to empathise was a strange thing. He was certainly capable of it to some extent – the fact that he was standing here at all was a testament to that – but sometimes, it felt like such a foreign concept as well. Len blinked and shook his head, deciding to stop being so introspective. It was rare for him to start thinking about these things…he tried not to be a deep person because superficiality made life so much easier. It was hard enough trying to survive. He didn't need to think about his reason to exist or wonder about how his life might be different if he had been raised normally…
What was normal though? Miku was a normal civilian, but her past didn't seem to be too happy. At least not after her father died. She worried about money a lot, he knew. It reminded him of himself. He lugged the body bag down the steps, slipping into the side alley nearby where the Dumpster was located. He wasn't concerned about being charged with murder here, anyway. This was a crime-ridden part of the city. Murder was a daily occurrence here, along with drug peddling and prostitution. The people who knew nothing of the underworld whispered that the Mafia carried out their work here…
He walked down the alley, the body bag growing heavier and heavier the more he went on. It was beginning to get on his nerves. He really hated body disposal, it was the most tedious part of his job. He could always just set it on fire or something but he didn't have a lighter or gasoline on him. He saw there was someone slouched next to the Dumpster and hoped it wasn't a hobo, because if he started asking for food or money Len would probably shoot him out of annoyance. And that would mean yet another body to get rid of. He really had better things he could do with all this time.
"Hey, hey, hey bro," the slumped figure straightened up as he watched Len approaching, grunting a little from the effort needed to drag the body across the floor. Seriously, how heavy was this fat prick? Len ignored the man, whom he now noticed was dressed in torn jeans, a faded shirt and a large black coat that was too big for his skinny frame. His eyes were feverish and his hair was long and matted – he looked like he hadn't slept or bathed in days. "Hey, don't ignore me," the man's voice took on a desperate whine, and Len decided to at least look up at him. "You have crack?" he whispered now that he caught Len's attention. Len narrowed his eyes. Did he look like a drug dealer?
"No, sorry," he answered shortly. "I'm not the right person to ask. I might know someone, but…" he gave the guy a look over, taking in his bedraggled appearance and the hollow sunken cheeks, those eyes that seemed too big for his skinny face, and could tell that this junkie had been living hand-to-mouth for some time. "No money, no talk," he concluded simply, reaching the Dumpster and letting go of the body bag. It hit the dirt floor with a soft 'thump'. The drug addict glanced at the bag.
"C'mon, bro," the guy was begging now. "Really, really. I really need it. Haven't had it in…in two days and I've just been sitting here ever since…I can't even fucking move, I feel so damn depressed," a shudder ran through his body. "I think I might…I might bite off my tongue. Help me," he was almost crying. Len felt disgusted. He had never touched drugs, he didn't even smoke, and honestly he felt that these drug users were all really pathetic. He had half a mind to kick the man away from him.
"Look, I can't help you without cash," he swung open the Dumpster lid, preparing to haul the body in. The man started tugging at his sleeve, insistently begging for more cocaine, and Len briefly thought about shooting the guy – but no, he didn't want to clear up another mess. As he jerked away from the junkie, crouching down to pick up the body bag, a thought came to mind and he turned to face the drug addict, a small smile on his face. "You need money, right?" he asked. The man nodded frantically, suddenly looking as though Len had just revealed the secret to happiness or something.
Well, in a way, he would be. Cocaine was clearly this man's source of happiness. "I have a suggestion for you, then. Take this bag," Len tugged the body bag towards the man, who took hold of it with a wondering look and trembling fingers. "Body parts fetch an awful lot of money in the black market nowadays. I just shot this guy a few minutes ago so he should still be viable…eh, I don't know how it works since I don't deal in organs or limbs myself, but I'm sure you'll be able to do something with it. Better than just tossing aside a nice, fresh corpse, right?" he grinned at him, waiting for a response.
A look of fear was slowly spreading across the junkie's face. "Corpse…? You killed someone?" his voice was filled with panic. Len nodded, drawing his gun out from his coat. He undid the safety latch, pointing it right at the shaking junkie. Given his reaction to the body, it should be easy enough to scare him off.
"I can't be bothered to kill you too, it's enough trouble for one night. I'm going to leave the body here so do whatever the hell you want with it. If you don't want it, just leave it here. If you want it, then take it and get the hell out of my sight," he snapped. He gave him a fierce scowl too for good measure.
The man seemed rooted to the spot with fear, but when Len tugged lightly on the trigger the junkie instantly bolted out of the alley, running a lot faster than what Len thought him capable of. Len smirked and kept the gun away, hauling up the body bag and rolling it into the Dumpster. When that was done, he lowered the lid and brushed off his hands, hoping that his room would be cleaned up when he returned to the inn. He didn't pay to suffer through the stench of blood and death at night. He was surrounded by death when he worked, so he didn't want his rest to be dominated by it too.
"I wonder what tomorrow will bring," he said aloud, looking up at the night sky. He had to bring the employee pass to Miku tomorrow – right before this he went to Rin's house and collected it on her behalf. He also took the chance to ask his sister about what was in that stupid thumb drive she wanted the other time, but she mumbled something vague about top secret documents and left it at that. He didn't want to push for information so he didn't bother to pursue it, though he did inform her about how Gumo had made his life difficult when he was searching for the thumb drive. He hoped that Rin did something to her boyfriend – the only person Gumo really was scared of was Rin.
It made him wonder why they were even together, sometimes. Though he saw the usefulness of the relationship, of course. He was pretty sure their feelings for each other were genuine at least, but it was really such an odd relationship they had. Then again, he wasn't really one to talk. He never had what one could call a normal relationship with anyone before. Every girl he ever dated usually left him after a while, thinking he was cheating on them or something since he could never tell them the truth about his circumstances. As for those who knew…for some reason, they always ended up dead. Usually by his hand. Since every girl who knew he was an assassin usually ended up being an enemy of his boss or something. And Len didn't like those girls enough to go against Piko's orders, anyway.
He wasn't sure what he felt for Miku, exactly. He knew Piko wouldn't give him the order to shoot her since they knew each other and the silver haired man didn't hate her guts or anything, but if his boss were to hypothetically ask him to murder her, would he be able to do so? The honest answer, even if he didn't like it, was yes. At least for now it was. Would Miku end up being the one girl he was willing to lay his life down for? Perhaps. It was such a foolish, romantic notion. Though sometimes he felt like it was more of selfish than romantic. Wouldn't sacrificing yourself for someone else burden the survivor with guilt and misery for the rest of their days? He wouldn't want Rin to die for him.
Ah, there he was being all philosophical again. He really ought to stop thinking about such things. Every second he spent dwelling on strange thoughts was a second wasted. "Let's get back to work," he told himself, though the words sounded more resigned than enthusiastic. Oh well, he wouldn't be paid if he didn't complete his duties, so he didn't have a choice anyway. He had yet to finish filing his report for the list of eliminated targets from last night. Five grand per shot wasn't too bad a deal.
"Ah, Ian!" Yuma greeted the stranger, clapping him on the back. The one called Ian shot Yuma a deadly glare, which the pink haired man coolly ignored. "How were the Chinese? I hope that your deal went smoothly?" the capo asked. Ian let out an irritated sigh, looking towards the ceiling.
Miku was just trying her very best to be inconspicuous. After Len and Yuma's warnings about the new caporegime, she didn't think she wanted to be noticed by him in any way. So far, he hadn't seemed to register her presence, for which she was thankful. The man standing in the room now was the same man in the photo on the desk Len showed her yesterday, and yes, he was beautiful.
Ian was around Len's height and had blond hair and blue eyes as well, but that was where all the similarity ended. Ian's blond hair was silvery rather than golden like Len's, and his eyes were dark blue, reminding her of outer space and the cosmos, rather than vivid cerulean. His hair darkened towards the tips as well, becoming light pink. His hair was rather long and tied up into a messy braid which reached the middle of his back. There seemed to be a perpetual dark scowl on his face.
"It all went fine, contrary to what you might expect," Ian's voice was slightly lower than Yuma's and rough compared to the taller caporegime. "I know when to hold my tongue…I bet you were waiting for me to get gunned down by them," his voice went sour. Ian certainly didn't seem like the kind of person she would want to offend. Len patted her reassuringly on the shoulder, about to leave the underground complex. Before Ian arrived, Len told her that he had to do something else so he would be unable to wait for her today. Just as he was about to leave, the passageway into the underground complex opened and this new man strode in, looking like he was about to murder someone.
It was an expression which simply didn't match his delicate features. Ian looked angelic. She was sure he would be an absolute stunner when he smiled – except, did he actually ever smile? Judging by that frown he was wearing on his face, she didn't think so. Maybe only when he actually was killing someone. She really hoped that she would continue to be invisible to him. So far, he hadn't even noticed her hanging around. It was as though she was made out of glass or something.
"I had all faith in your ability," Yuma responded. She stared at the man's poker face and decided that she couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not. "But that's not important. You know about the new girl, yes?" to her horror, Yuma turned everyone's attention upon her. Ian looked around at her as well, his dark blue eyes narrowing, and she desperately wished that she had the ability to melt into the wall and pretend she didn't exist. "She'll be practicing shooting in your complex until Boss comes back from Russia tomorrow," Yuma went on to explain. Ian continued to stare intently at her.
Len whispered a quick goodbye in her ear and, before she could try to stop him, dashed out of the room into the passageway beyond, heading out of the underground complex. How dare he leave her to face the two capos like that! Swallowing, she turned slowly to watch them both – Yuma had his usual neutral expression on his face, but Ian was watching her the way a wolf might stare at its dying prey. She wasn't very happy about being in this situation, but she decided it would be good if she said something to break the tense silence. "Um, hello," she finally stuttered, cringing at herself.
"New girl?" Ian came closer to her, tipping his head to one side. She remained still and quiet as he began to circle her, looking at her from every angle. She had no idea what the heck he was doing but she felt that it was best not to say anything for now. He looked like someone who was on the verge of exploding. "Yeah, Piko told all of us, didn't he? Though I bet Kiyo and Kurotane wouldn't have met her yet, since Kiyo is out of town and Kurotane…he's worse than me, isn't he?" he smiled thinly.
Yuma made a sound of assent but Miku couldn't focus on that, since Ian was now standing directly in front of her, closely studying her face. She tried not to tremble. This man was very intimidating in a way even Yuma wasn't. Yuma, at least, never got into her personal space. Ian did not seem to have the same sense of etiquette as the first capo. "I don't know what you know about us," Ian leant close to her to whisper in her ear, "but if you're going to be here then you listen to my rules, you understand? Whatever Yuma said to you was irrelevant. You don't prove yourself to be worthy of my time, then I'll make your life here with us very, very miserable. You understand me, don't you?"
He didn't even bother to conceal his threat. She nodded frantically, and the blond man relaxed, a small smirk on his face. "Good. Don't give me any trouble and I won't harass you either," he warned before stepping aside, giving her some space to breathe once more. "Oh well, she seems obedient enough so I doubt I'll have much trouble with her," he spoke so casually that it was as though Miku had disappeared from the room. She felt almost offended but didn't dare to show it on her face.
"Were you at Pyre Leaf Inn last night?" Yuma asked, getting hold of Ian's attention. The capo looked away from her, and suddenly she felt like a heavy weight was taken off her shoulders. She shivered, hoping that Ian wouldn't be around while she was practicing her shooting later. She was a bad enough shot already – his presence would probably make it even worse. And there was no need to let this man think she was any more inferior than he obviously assumed her to be. "I heard there was quite a commotion last night…three deaths, apparently. And you were responsible for one of them."
Ian rolled his eyes. "I don't know where you get your information from, but yes," his voice was still sour. "Some stupid bastard tried to break into my room. I think he had two accomplices, and all three of them made some pretty bad choices. I got rid of the leader…one of the others broke into some Russian's room, and the last one got into Len's suite. That guy was stupider than the one who tried to rob me," Ian tutted and shook his head, but Miku was distracted by the mention of Len. So someone had tried to sneak into his hotel room last night… "Sad bastard. At least Len gave the man a quick death."
"What, and you didn't?" Yuma responded. Ian let out a dry laugh but didn't say anything more about the matter. Miku bit her lip, turning away from the two men so that they wouldn't see her face. Len had killed someone last night…it was still a difficult thing for her to come to terms with, since most of the time Len didn't seem like someone who could casually kill another person. It was so easy to forget what his job was. But Ian said it so easily, as though Len murdered people all the time. In all honesty, he probably did. Why was it so hard to match the friendly, easy-going blond with the image of death and murder everyone else painted of him? She wondered about that unseen side of him.
Yuma sighed. "I'm not surprised. I bet you let him die of blood loss. It's your favourite method, anyway," he frowned. "I still am of the opinion that you should kill people off as quickly as possible. It's not like you earn anything out of a slow death," Yuma reasoned. Miku winced – they were talking about this as though it was as trivial as the weather, but all this discussion made her uncomfortable.
Maybe she ought to get out of here, but she was still hesitant about attracting Ian's attention and she was sure that if she tried to slip away, he would notice. "Perhaps, but I do get a kick out of it," Ian grinned. Miku sneaked a glance at the scary capo – he was stunning when he smiled. He possessed a radiant, almost unearthly kind of beauty, but she was reminded of his sadism and promptly looked away again, her heart in her throat. She had no doubt that he meant what he said just now about making her life miserable should she fail to meet his expectations. This man was a clear sadist.
"Let's not make the girl uncomfortable," Yuma appeared to have noticed her silent distress. She was glad when he put a stop to the conversation. Ian glanced at her again, looking decidedly bored. At least he didn't try to continue. "Miku, let's resume our gun practice. You'll have opportunities to talk more with Ian during lunch…if you want to, that is," he added carefully. Ian raised an eyebrow and stared at her, an almost challenging expression on his face. Miku swallowed and smiled carefully.
"That might be nice," she answered, trying her best not to let her voice betray her fear. Yuma didn't seem particularly convinced by her neutral tone though, giving her a strange look. Instead of responding to her words, Ian simply rolled his eyes and walked out, brushing past her in the process. She tensed up at the fleeting contact, almost flinching away but stopping herself just in time, and then the blond capo was out of the small room. Yuma exhaled audibly, and she peeked at the tall man. He was looking at the door through which Ian had exited, confusion in his expression. It looked out of place on his usually calm face.
"Well, that's Ian for you," he finally spoke, shaking his head. "Stubborn, hot-headed and extremely prickly. He means well, really," though Yuma himself sounded uncertain here. Miku gave him a look of disbelief and he chuckled quietly. "I can understand how you feel. He will come around in due time. Ian has exceptionally high standards of his soldato, so…he has a tendency to look down on anyone whom he does not regard as his equal. But he has undying loyalty to our boss, so if you are under our boss's protection, there is nothing to fear. He will not harm you if that's the case."
"So if Piko wasn't vouching for me, Ian would hurt me?" she asked, morbidly curious about that. Yuma shrugged, and she took that to mean that even he did not know. Ian did seem to be rather unpredictable… "Okay, I don't want to think about him anymore. Hopefully I won't run into him again later," she shuddered. "Should we get to training?" she asked, trying to change the subject.
"Yes, we should," Yuma agreed firmly, turning around and heading off towards the training room. By now the route was familiar to her and she easily fell into step beside him. "Anyway, Len will be back after lunch," he added while they walked. Perhaps he was able to sense her discomfort about being alone down here. "He has some matters to settle, from what I understand. You heard that Len killed a man last night. So he has to compensate the hotel's owner for all the trouble. The owner probably called in a few favours, from what I understand it's not the first time Len has shot someone on his property…"
Miku made a face. "How many people does Len kill every day?" she asked, semi-jokingly. Of course she didn't think that Len actually bumped off people on a daily basis. But Yuma actually seemed to be thinking over her question, and the longer he took to answer, the more nervous she became.
"I don't know about that, actually. Most nights he doesn't shoot anyone, but if you average out all the deaths in a year…well, more than one a day, I would say," Yuma finally gave her an estimate. "And Len doesn't always report all his kills, only if he needs to claim his salary – meaning that it's a task our boss assigned to him. Recently he was told to exterminate all the rogue drug dealers around here, for example. They're in complete disarray now that their only supplier has been bumped off."
"Rogue drug dealers?" Miku echoed. It was interesting to hear about, though the nature of their discussion made her feel…well, strange. She always thought that this was the kind of thing that only happened in movies. Murder, drugs, assassins…sometimes she would wake up thinking that it was all a dream, but then she would look at her phone and see a morning text from Len or maybe a missed call from Piko and she would realise that it wasn't a dream, after all. "What do you mean by rogue? I mean, to begin with what makes a drug dealer…legal?" she struggled to say. Yuma frowned.
"As long as they abide by the rules our boss set down and enforces, then we allow them to operate. Some of those rules involve not peddling drugs outside your assigned area, and only obtaining drugs from us rather than from others…we have quite a monopoly here," Yuma explained, opening the door to the shooting range. "But recently there was someone supplying a few dealers, likely at a cheaper rate too, and those same dealers stopped paying us taxes so they're considered rogue. Our boss does not take kindly to those who dare to defy his authority, so he sent Len to get rid of them. We didn't expect to find the supplier on top of that, but Len did and Len killed her, so there we have it."
Her? Suddenly, a chill ran down her spine. She couldn't explain why, maybe it was her intuition, but she had a really bad feeling about this. "When did Len get rid of the dealers?" she asked. Yuma blinked, probably wondering why she was taking such an interest in the situation, but he answered anyway.
"The night before. He was tired in the morning, yes? He was up all night, hunting down the rogue dealers on the list. He has a few left to hit, and I assume he went out now to settle those too. I'm impressed actually, that he's willing to take such a risk in broad daylight. But I suppose that being skilled in assassination means that it doesn't really matter what time you get around to exterminating the rats," Yuma mused. "Either way, as long as he gets the job done I won't comment on what time he carries out his work. He is the best assassin in the world, after all."
Miku felt sick. She vividly remembered Len telling her yesterday that he spent the night clearing up Miki's mess. Suddenly, she had her doubts about where the redheaded secretary had disappeared to. Family problems…Len sounded strange the first time she told him she wanted to talk to Miki. And he hadn't seemed aware of her family emergency either. At that time, she thought little of it since he said they weren't actually close, but maybe…no, she had to be overthinking this, right?
"Where's Miki?" she asked loudly, catching the capo's attention. Yuma slowly looked around at her, and she thought something almost like pity flitted across his face, but it was gone before she could be sure. For a while, the two of them stared silently at each other. Miku had yet to step inside the shooting range, and they remained there at the doorway, a standoff of sorts. She was trembling.
"She was the supplier for those dealers. Len killed her three nights ago," Yuma sounded apologetic. She didn't hear him though, she was so shocked by the abrupt realisation that her suspicions were true – now that she thought about it, Miki's family emergency had seemed so sudden, and no one wanted to say anything about where the secretary was…and Len always seemed so shifty whenever the topic was brought up. Now she knew why. She wasn't close to the secretary, but she recalled her bright smile and how friendly she was – and now, this woman Miku barely knew was dead.
She swayed on her feet and Yuma caught her before she could collapse. "Miku?" he called her name worriedly. Her eyelids fluttered. She felt like she was going to be sick. "If I give the command, you will be eliminated…" Piko's words floated through her memory, and the churning feeling in her stomach intensified. Piko hadn't been exaggerating. Rin and Len were clearly steadfast in their loyalties, and Len ended up murdering someone who had known him personally…so if she really did anything wrong, she would be killed the same way Miki was, then? Her head was becoming really heavy.
She vaguely heard Yuma's voice over her head and the sound of running, someone with a deeper voice calling out, a new hand shaking her brusquely. She opened her eyes for long enough to see Ian peering closely at her, a scowl on his face as he placed the back of his hand against her forehead, the two caporegimes conversing rapidly in a language she didn't understand. Then the dizziness overtook her and she slipped into unconsciousness, the murdered secretary the last thought to leave her mind.
A/N: Ian is IA's genderbend, to clear up any possible confusion. I don't like the name Io or Ai, so Ian it is.