Chapter 14 (Because it blew up in their faces)

Hayato felt a little ridiculous, padding around the penthouse on his bare feet like a ninja. Silence was key; even his two other companions, Shiro and Ichiro, swore to that. After Hayato gave him his word that he'd help find the missing negatives, Ichiro quietly collected his son to help further their cause. After all, he was the only person Juri truly liked. The child was the apple of her eye; she can't say no to him. 'Spoiled' was probably the right word for it, but as of the moment, neither of the older males really cared. Hayato just needed to get the job done and by the looks of it—if he was willing to use his son—Ichiro did, too. Great minds think alike, he thought, glancing at her door with trepidation as they drew closer and closer to it.

"Steer clear of the doorway," Ichiro whispered. If Hayato felt ridiculous, it was even worse just watching the man in the suit maneuver about. And he was totally serious, too, his face looking as if he was walking around land mines. "If I'm correct, she's probably still got a six pack stashed in her closet and she'll be most likely drinking by the time we get in there. I repeat, stay away from the doorway. Unless, of course, you wanna take a full six pack to the face."

Hayato shook his head, half out of disbelief and half out of dread. Crazy bitch will probably throw anything within reach, he thought, already imagining some kind of battle sequence straight out of 'Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon'. More like Crouching Juri, Hidden Beer Can.

To his son, Ichiro said, "Shiro, you know what to do."

Nodding resolutely, the child plowed on ahead without Hayato or his father. The two older males stepped back, watching with anticipation as Shiro knocked on Juri's door. "Auntie Juriiiiii….I'm boooored," he whined. Childish, adorable, irresistible. "I wanna play with you, so can I come in?"

It worked like a charm. Soon enough, the door opened, but just enough to let the child through. As soon as it closed shut again, Ichiro pumped a fist in the air, obviously elated. "And...she took the bait. Now, we wait."

As the man in the suit stared at the door expectantly, Hayato couldn't help but shake his head in amusement. The plan seemed so rehearsed that it could only come from the frequency of practice. "So how often do you guys do this anyway?" he asked in a hushed tone. "Looks like you and your kid already have a strategy worked out."

A smile broke through Ichiro's once-serious countenance. "Only when necessary, which is more than half the time. Trust me, it was a lot harder before Shiro was born. Thank God she's got a soft spot for babies." Leaning in to Hayato, his voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "If you ask me, I think she secretly wants children. Unfortunately, she'll need a man to help her with that."

He was quite the talker, but Hayato decided that he liked that about him. It was certainly better than the biting remarks Juri bestowed upon him since day one or the cold silence that she was used to. "Good luck with that," he scoffed, staring at the door with such intensity that could probably burn holes through the wood.

It was silent, save for the sound of their breathing and the hushed voices coming from Juri's room. Finally, the door opened once again, this time to reveal Shiro with a still-pissed Juri in tow. Ichiro was right; his sister was drinking. Stuck between two fingers was a cigarette sending tendrils of smoke to the ceiling and in that same hand, she held a beer can. Juri took a sip, her flashing eyes never leaving their faces as her free hand held on to Shiro's shoulder. To the boy, she said, "Sweetheart, why don't you go down and watch TV for a bit? The adults and I need to have a talk, don't we?"

Shiro looked up at her, eyes pleading as if to say, "Please don't hurt Daddy. Or the nice man who brought you cake this morning." At least that's what Hayato thought anyway. He must have been right because after a brief kiss to the kid's forehead, he was on his way and Juri seemed almost…amicable. Bearable. Human. Then she started talking again. "Well, what the hell are you two still standing there for? Get in here. And shut the fucking door."

Should've known better, Hayato thought sullenly. Sighing, her brother followed her back inside and Hayato did the same. He knew her much better than he did, after all. As he closed the door once they were all in, he couldn't help but marvel at Juri's room. For one girl, it was huge. It matched the rest of the penthouse in the sense that it looked like it came straight from a catalog. However, there was something amiss about it. What was it again…?

Juri must have noticed the odd look on his face. "Is something the matter, Yabuki?"

"Yeah." Then it finally came to him. The floor of her room seemed to be missing, considering how it was covered with a litter consisting of clothes, books, paper and just about everything else that ought to have a proper place. "Where the hell did your floor go? 'Cause I sure as hell can't see it."

Sitting at a bay window, Juri scowled at him, tapping out her ashes on a nearby ashtray. "Shut up. I'm just waiting for the housekeeper to come by today." To her brother, she said, "You know, it's pretty dirty using Shiro like that."

Feigning wide-eyed innocence, Ichiro took on his sister head-on the way only the people who knew her well enough can. "Whatever do you mean, sis?"

She rolled her eyes and focused on a new target. Hayato. "You," she snapped, crumpling the now-empty beer can in her hand. "Get me some tequila. There ought to be some in the kitchen."

Not only was she a smoker, but she was an alcoholic too, it seemed. What the fuck have I gotten myself into, he thought, his feet beginning to move towards the ordered destination anyway. Beside him, Ichiro obviously didn't like the idea of his sister drinking in broad daylight. "Juri, if this is going to be a problem, then—"

"Oh, fuck off," she said, scowling at her brother. "I promised Shiro I'd be nice and listen to you guys. You expect me to do that sober?" To Hayato, she said, "You might wanna hurry along now, errand boy, if you plan on explaining everything to me before I pass out."

She was buzzed, just the way she liked it. Not giving a rat's ass about anything was magnified a thousand times, obvious in how she stumbled along the street till they reached Hayato's one-night-stand's home. The Other Woman, as Juri liked to call her, lived in a rather nice apartment complex. It wasn't like the upscale ones she was used to, but it was homey nonetheless. "Cute place," she remarked loudly, staggering inside past an old man who she almost knocked over.

Ichiro had already taken one of her arms around his shoulder, propping her weight against him as he guided her towards the elevator. Quickly, Hayato punched a button on the control panel, shut the door and soon enough, all three of them were zooming up to the fourth floor. All the while, Juri watched Hayato with a scrutinizing glare. "Committed everything to memory, haven't you?" she drawled, leaning her head against her brother's shoulder. "What, did she give you head or something?"

"Juri!"

That scolding tone could only belong to her frigid brother, to whom she could only turn to with a mischievous smirk on her lips. "Oh, come on. I'm sure that wife of yours must have done something of the sort when she was still fond of you. How is she, by the way?"

Ichiro closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose the way their father did when something frustrated him. Good. So she still hadn't lost her effect on him, after all. She did warn him about that woman. Shiro may have come from her, but Ichiro's ex-wife was no saint. Juri even took the liberty of warning him about her since they met, but he took no heed to her advice. Now it was simply her job to remind him of the consequences of not listening to her.

"She's even worse than usual," Hayato remarked, glancing back at them briefly. Due to her brother's intervention earlier, he seemed to have regained his backbone and now continued to speak with his usual bravado.

"It's the tequila talking," her brother answered on her behalf. "I believe she's got the potential to be pleasant, if only she can be sober for a day or two."

Juri glared at her brother, but her vision was starting to get a little hazy. She closed her eyes for a moment and by the time she opened them again, the elevator dinged, dropping them off on the fourth floor.

Jerking his head forward, Hayato proceeded to lead the way. "This way. Last one down to the left."

Using Ichiro as a human crutch, Juri hobbled along until they reached a door all the way at the end of the hallway. She heard Hayato knock a few times, calling for a girl named Misaki. Over and over again, but still there was no reply. As for Juri, the tequila plus half the six-pack finally got her, alright; they robbed her clear vision, leaving her with nothing but sound. She remembered hearing Hayato reach for the doorknob, turn it open and…

Boom.

Standing idly on a sidewalk across the street, she watched as the explosion from her apartment turned one side of the fourth floor into a ruin, raining down bits of shattered glass and debris onto the ground below. She couldn't help but admire her handiwork; she never did like that place anyway. Too prim and proper for her taste. Still, her employer rented it out for her for a very special job, and now that she was finished, she could finally go back to her old life.

She walked away from the sidewalk, unscathed and free at last. The negatives stashed away in her bra were her payday; now the only thing she had to worry about was where and when to pick up her hard-earned money.