~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
35 Millimeters II: Behind the Lens
by Lady Aishiteru
Chapter 5 - Buyer Beware
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
It felt so strange walk together with Kunzite without one of
our arguments. My heart was pounding a mile a minute, but I wasn't
really nervous. I didn't know how I felt anymore; all I knew was that
I had no reason to hate him anymore. He wasn't a slob, or a male
model. What else have I been wrong about? Did I really want to know?
"You're quiet," he said, opening the car door for me.
"I guess I am," I responded.
"So, tell me what you're thinking," he said.
"What I'm thinking?" I asked, raising my eyebrow. "Why on
Earth would you want to know that?"
He didn't say anything for a few minutes, and I wondered if he
had ignored the question. I glanced at the man next to me, looking
for clues, but his eyes were glued to the road. I stared off into
space, feeling anxious. I put my face in my hands. "Why did I agree
to this? He's ignoring me! ME! How dare he!" My arms fell to my
side, stiff as petrified wood. Then I felt this curious sensation;
suddenly, I had three hands? No, that can't be right. It was then
that I saw one of the hands was his, and it was stroking mine.
In shock, I tore my hand away. "Don't," was all I could say.
I saw a frown mar his chiseled face. Was he genuinely hurt?
"Why?" he asked.
"Just...don't."
He stopped the car in front of a building, but he didn't open
the door. He turned around and faced me. He made no move to touch
me, but the look in his eyes spoke volumes. "What are you afraid of?"
he asked.
Startled by his directness, I tore my glance away. He
responded by gently tilting my chin upwards until we were face to face
again. I felt his rapid pulse through his fingertips, and I chewed my
lip. I took his hands into mine and pulled them away from my face.
I took a deep breath, looked him in the eyes, and said the only
coherent thought in my clouded mind, "This."
He released my hands and walked around the other side of the
car. "Well, would you like to eat something?"
"Sure," I said. For the first time, I looked past him, and I
saw a very comforting sight. "The Soda Shoppe?"
"Yeah. I like this place," he said absently.
"Me too."
"Hey, Minako! What can I get you?" asked Motoki as Kunzite
pulled out a chair for me.
"A poached egg, orange juice and a slice of toast, no butter."
"And for the gentleman?"
"One large stack of pancakes, heavy on the syrup."
"Coming right up," Motoki said, grinning from ear to ear.
"Oh, brother," I thought. "Now the girls will find out about this for
sure."
"So," I said, trying to start off an intelligent conversation.
"I hear you're in charge of Human Resources. What's that like?"
Kunzite laughed. "Basically, I interview potential employees
who are applying to higher positions, or seeking promotion. It's my
job to judge how their potential can be an asset to Chiba Inc. Once
they've been hired, I look after their training for the next couple of
weeks."
"That sounds like hard work," I mused, sipping my water.
"It is, but I find it very rewarding. What do you do for a
living?" he asked.
I hesitated for a few moments. What should I tell him? That
I'm a supermodel, the top rated face in the East? Should I tell him
that I made People magazine's Best Dressed list last year, or that
several cosmetic companies are fighting to name a makeup line after
me? "Oh, nothing much, really. I 'm into photography." Well, that
wasn't a complete lie; it was just that I did my work in front of the
camera as opposed to behind.
"Really? My friend is dating a woman who alters photographs.
I hear she works down town. Miss...Mizuno, right?"
"Yes, I've heard of her," I said. "She's going out with
Zoisite, right?"
"They had their first date last night," he said. "He hasn't
told me how it went yet. Actually, come to think of it, I haven't
seen him all morning."
"I wouldn't think Ami would be the type that would put out on
the first date," I said bluntly.
"Yes, she seems like she would be more reserved," he said
pensively.
"I'd say 'modest' would be a better word," I clarified.
"I guess so," said Kunzite, sipping his own water. "Minako,
why did you come to my office?"
"I already told you," I said. "I don't know."
"You said you wanted me to stop sending you flowers, but
you're here with me now. I'm getting mixed signals here."
I knew I should have been blustering after such direct
language, but for some reason, I didn't have it in me. "It's a long
story," I sighed.
"You don't have to tell me if you don't want. I don't want
to make you uncomfortable, Minako."
"There is one thing that makes me uncomfortable. Why did you
keep sending me flowers when I showed no sign of interest?" I asked.
It was my turn to be direct.
"You honestly don't know?" he asked.
"What, you live next door to a florist's?" I cracked.
"No, I kept sending you flowers because I-"
"Here's your breakfast, minna," Motoki said, depositing two
steaming plates onto the table. "Let me know if you need anything
else."
"Thanks," I said curtly. Could he possibly have any worse
timing? We dug into our meal with awkward silence. The only sounds
that could be heard were the scraping of silverware against plates.
It seemed to take me forever to finish my meal, especially since
Kunzite finished long before I did.
"Well, where to next?" I asked, taking out my credit card.
"No, this one's on me," he said.
"Are you kidding?" I said.
In response, he deposited the exact price of our meal, plus a
little extra. How on earth did he know how much our meal would cost?
We didn't even look at the menus. I filed away this question for
later analysis.
"So, how's Artemis doing?" asked Kunzite.
Now this was a conversation I could get into. "He's doing
great," I said. "I love that little fuzz ball."
"Has he gotten into your socks yet?"
"Yes, how did you know?"
"I'd tell you, but then I'd have to take off my shoes, and you
really don't want me to do that," he said, grinning.
"Heh. I'll bet. He's a smart little guy," I said. "He's
almost figured out how to open and close doors all by himself."
"Really? I didn't know cats could do that."
All too soon, we reached the car. "Where to now, Miss Daisy?"
"Miss Daisy?"
"Yeah," he said. "As in Driving Miss Daisy."
"Oh, I see." My watch reflection caught the corner of my eye,
and I looked at the face of it in horror. "Damn! I'm late for work!"
"I can drive you there if you'd like," Kunzite offered.
"No, no, no, don't do that. I don't want to trouble you," I
said, laughing nervously.
"It's no problem, really," he said.
I dug my fingernails into my palms nervously. What was I
going to do? I had an important shoot that day, but I didn't want
Kunzite to know that I'm a model. Which was more important, support-
ing someone I can't stand, or giving someone else a chance to prove he
was someone worth knowing? If he saw my work, he wouldn't be able to
look past all of the blinding lights and glitter. He'd only see
Venus, not me, the real me, Aino Minako. Or maybe I was afraid to let
him get too close, and he would see the Minako inside, the one I
didn't let anyone see.
"Minako?" he asked, bringing my thoughts back to the present.
"Is something wrong?"
I laughed nervously, but I could tell he wasn't buying it.
He opened the back door and motioned for me to go in. "Would
you like to talk about it? People say I'm a good listener," he said.
"Remember when you asked me what I was afraid of?" I said.
"Yes," he said expectantly.
"Love," I responded, looking at my hands. "I'm afraid of
love."
He nodded his head as if he understood. "I'm not going to
hurt you, Minako," he said softly. "I would never ask you to do any-
thing you're not ready for."
I looked into his eyes, and I could see that he was being
sincere. He really did care about me. Why didn't I see that sooner?
"So, you actually love me?"
"Why does that surprise you?"
"I've been so cold, I don't know why you don't see me as a
heartless creep," I said, my voice wobbly.
"You're not heartless, Minako," he said. That was all the
invitation I needed. Tears flowed from my eyes without warning, and
all of the hurts that I've been carrying inside of me ran down my
face. The mask fell away, and for the first time in years, I couldn't
pretend anymore. I wasn't Venus, the supermodel that drove men crazy
with a wink and a smile, or the bubbly blonde that loved to meddle in
my friend's love lives. For a brief moment, I was the scared little
girl living in the slums of London. I cried for all of the years I've
thrown away chasing a hopeless dream, and mourned my lost childhood.
He gathered me into his arms and held me until I couldn't cry anymore.
When I realized I had actually let my guard down, I raised my
head and saw two black circles on his white shirt. "Oh, God, your
shirt! I've ruined it!"
"Nonsense," he said, smiling. "I've never looked better.
So, where do you want to go?"
"Go? I look like a mess!" I moaned. "My mascara's all
streaky!"
"You look okay to me," he said, smiling. "Better than
'okay'."
"Liar," I said, smiling. "But thanks."
"Any time," he said.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
As soon as I got out of the car, a loud, tinny voice boomed
"KONBANWA, MINNA-CHAN!"
"Ahh! What the hell is that?" I screeched.
"Relax, Minako, it's just a casino sign."
And so it was. This monstrosity of a sign looked like a huge, neon
Buddha. Every few seconds, the Buddha would wave at people and smile
his gap-toothed grin. He was standing on huge, bright blue letters
that said "The Lucky Buddha," and it hurt my poor eyes to look at him.
"Yeah. It's fun."
"If you say so," I mumbled. "There are far to many flashing
lights here already. I get enough of that at work."
He looked at me strangely for a moment, and then he nodded as
if some huge revelation had struck home. "Well, there's this one room
in the back that's really quiet. It's called the 'chokahanka room.'"
"Choking Hanky Room? What on Earth is that?"
He laughed at me gently. "Chokahanka. It's a dice game,
Minako. It comes from the words chou and han, which mean odd and
even."
"Oh, okay," I said, although I still didn't quite get it.
"Well, I'll try anything once," I said, smiling gamely. Well, that
was mostly true, anyways.
We walked past the glittering slot machines and the roulette
tables, and gradually, the objects became less and less glamorous
until everything merged into a quiet gray. The floor was covered with
sawdust, and it looked more like a warehouse than anything else.
Stacks upon stacks of boxes and burlap sacks littered the room, some
reaching almost as high as the ceiling. The only light in the area
was sunlight that filtered through the cracks in the rotting, moldy
cement walls. I had the feeling that I shouldn't be there, nor should
any living thing, I thought as my stiletto heels clicked against the
ground. It smelled like death and decay. I began to chew my lip
nervously.
"Relax, we're okay. Just don't talk when you come into the
room." Kunzite gave my hand a reassuring squeeze.
I knitted my eyebrows together in confusion. "What kind of
gambling game is there where you don't speak?" I asked loudly.
Unfortunately, when I had said that, we had already walked
into the chokahanka room. A well-dressed, middle-aged man in a pin-
striped, Italian suit looked up and glared daggers at me. A woman
with hair like fire trailing down her shoulders watched the proceed-
ings and threw me a withering look with her indigo eyes. She was
long-legged, buxom, and she wore a floor-length dress that seemed to
be painted on. The woman radiated a strange kind of dark power that
made me shiver despite the humid, sticky air.
A huge pile of unmarked, non-sequential bills sat in the
middle of an elegant looking table that looked out of place in such a
dusty, obscure area. Everyone except me had placed their hands
demurely at their sides. There was an unspoken tension in the air,
as if I had committed an unspeakable crime. "What a bunch of touchy
people," I thought. "What did I say?"
A well-dressed, subtle looking man looked around the room to
find the offending voice, then he said in a low voice, "Play." He
withdrew his hand from a bamboo cup, and a pair of die fell onto a
Japanese mat. The whole room peered intently at the die to see
whether it had fallen on odds or evens. In the same quiet voice, he
announced "Chou." At that, an elderly man bowed his head and quietly
left the room. "I guess he lost," I thought.
I watched this strange game several times with Kunzite by my
side. For some strange reason, he never placed a bet. Why on earth
did we come in here if neither of us were going to play? Everyone
except the die thrower was staring at us, devouring us with their eyes
like a silent frenzy of sharks. I tugged gently at Kunzite's sleeve,
and he shook his head. "What? Why are we staying here? What is he
doing? What was he trying to prove?"
After an hour and a half, the man who rolled the die walked
out of the room. "Hn...come to think of it, haven't I seen him
before?" I didn't have time to think about it, since before I knew
it, Kunzite walked out of the room. "Kunzite, wait!" I cried. I
heard one massive hissing noise. Why was everyone telling me to hush?
I shook my head at myself and walked out. There was no way I was
going to stay here alone in this room full of creepy weirdos.
"Kunzite, where are you going?" He looked behind his shoulder
at me, as if he didn't want me to follow him. Why would he act so
strange? He had been Mister Sensitive all night, and now he was
stalking the casino worker. Was there something he wasn't telling me?
I ran as fast as I could in my spiked heels, but it wasn't fast
enough. I tried to remember how I had entered this strange place, but
it was pitch black now, and I couldn't see a thing.
A match striking a rough surface flared up out of the
darkness. A husky voice that seemed to come from a cloud of
cigarette smoke followed and asked, "Are you lost?"
At that point, I did the only thing I could do in a crazy
situation like that. I ran like hell, not caring that I couldn't see
where I was going. The next thing I knew, my heels broke, and I
slipped into oblivion. Before I did, I could have sworn that I heard
a woman laughing...
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Get that whore out of here!" I heard a woman screech.
Through my blurry vision, I could see the red haired woman...at least
I thought it was a woman...pointing at me and gesturing wildly.
"No! She needs my help." A navy colored blob with a white
head stamped his foot.
"Itai!" I murmured. "Not so loud! My head is killing me!"
My cries went unnoticed, and the pair continued their heated argument.
"It would be wise of you to consider your position in this
organization," she sneered. "You are my second. That means you
answer to me."
"You would be wise to consider your place," said the man, his
arms folded across his chest. "The only reason we're even having this
conversation is because Tanas is dead."
Their shapes were becoming wavy and indistinct, like some kind
of fever dream. The woman stroked her chin in a thoughtful way.
"Hn, perhaps you're right, Ace," she purred, and I heard a
faint sound of fingernails scraping against sequins. "After all, I am
only a woman," she said, placing husky emphasis on the last word. I
heard the sound of heels clicking urgently against cement.
Then I heard, "No, stop it! You'll kill her!"
"We can't have any witnesses," she said. I heard the sound of
feet shuffling and heavy breathing. After that, the world mercifully
chose to go black.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I heard the sound of angry knocking on my door. I rubbed my
head and slowly sat up. Was it all a dream? It certainly felt real.
I moved my hand over the back of my head and noticed an egg shaped lump.
"Open up!" demanded a voice. "This is the police!"
Panic registered immediately, clearing the mists of sleep from
my brain. What, exactly, had happened last night?
35 Millimeters II: Behind the Lens
by Lady Aishiteru
Chapter 5 - Buyer Beware
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
It felt so strange walk together with Kunzite without one of
our arguments. My heart was pounding a mile a minute, but I wasn't
really nervous. I didn't know how I felt anymore; all I knew was that
I had no reason to hate him anymore. He wasn't a slob, or a male
model. What else have I been wrong about? Did I really want to know?
"You're quiet," he said, opening the car door for me.
"I guess I am," I responded.
"So, tell me what you're thinking," he said.
"What I'm thinking?" I asked, raising my eyebrow. "Why on
Earth would you want to know that?"
He didn't say anything for a few minutes, and I wondered if he
had ignored the question. I glanced at the man next to me, looking
for clues, but his eyes were glued to the road. I stared off into
space, feeling anxious. I put my face in my hands. "Why did I agree
to this? He's ignoring me! ME! How dare he!" My arms fell to my
side, stiff as petrified wood. Then I felt this curious sensation;
suddenly, I had three hands? No, that can't be right. It was then
that I saw one of the hands was his, and it was stroking mine.
In shock, I tore my hand away. "Don't," was all I could say.
I saw a frown mar his chiseled face. Was he genuinely hurt?
"Why?" he asked.
"Just...don't."
He stopped the car in front of a building, but he didn't open
the door. He turned around and faced me. He made no move to touch
me, but the look in his eyes spoke volumes. "What are you afraid of?"
he asked.
Startled by his directness, I tore my glance away. He
responded by gently tilting my chin upwards until we were face to face
again. I felt his rapid pulse through his fingertips, and I chewed my
lip. I took his hands into mine and pulled them away from my face.
I took a deep breath, looked him in the eyes, and said the only
coherent thought in my clouded mind, "This."
He released my hands and walked around the other side of the
car. "Well, would you like to eat something?"
"Sure," I said. For the first time, I looked past him, and I
saw a very comforting sight. "The Soda Shoppe?"
"Yeah. I like this place," he said absently.
"Me too."
"Hey, Minako! What can I get you?" asked Motoki as Kunzite
pulled out a chair for me.
"A poached egg, orange juice and a slice of toast, no butter."
"And for the gentleman?"
"One large stack of pancakes, heavy on the syrup."
"Coming right up," Motoki said, grinning from ear to ear.
"Oh, brother," I thought. "Now the girls will find out about this for
sure."
"So," I said, trying to start off an intelligent conversation.
"I hear you're in charge of Human Resources. What's that like?"
Kunzite laughed. "Basically, I interview potential employees
who are applying to higher positions, or seeking promotion. It's my
job to judge how their potential can be an asset to Chiba Inc. Once
they've been hired, I look after their training for the next couple of
weeks."
"That sounds like hard work," I mused, sipping my water.
"It is, but I find it very rewarding. What do you do for a
living?" he asked.
I hesitated for a few moments. What should I tell him? That
I'm a supermodel, the top rated face in the East? Should I tell him
that I made People magazine's Best Dressed list last year, or that
several cosmetic companies are fighting to name a makeup line after
me? "Oh, nothing much, really. I 'm into photography." Well, that
wasn't a complete lie; it was just that I did my work in front of the
camera as opposed to behind.
"Really? My friend is dating a woman who alters photographs.
I hear she works down town. Miss...Mizuno, right?"
"Yes, I've heard of her," I said. "She's going out with
Zoisite, right?"
"They had their first date last night," he said. "He hasn't
told me how it went yet. Actually, come to think of it, I haven't
seen him all morning."
"I wouldn't think Ami would be the type that would put out on
the first date," I said bluntly.
"Yes, she seems like she would be more reserved," he said
pensively.
"I'd say 'modest' would be a better word," I clarified.
"I guess so," said Kunzite, sipping his own water. "Minako,
why did you come to my office?"
"I already told you," I said. "I don't know."
"You said you wanted me to stop sending you flowers, but
you're here with me now. I'm getting mixed signals here."
I knew I should have been blustering after such direct
language, but for some reason, I didn't have it in me. "It's a long
story," I sighed.
"You don't have to tell me if you don't want. I don't want
to make you uncomfortable, Minako."
"There is one thing that makes me uncomfortable. Why did you
keep sending me flowers when I showed no sign of interest?" I asked.
It was my turn to be direct.
"You honestly don't know?" he asked.
"What, you live next door to a florist's?" I cracked.
"No, I kept sending you flowers because I-"
"Here's your breakfast, minna," Motoki said, depositing two
steaming plates onto the table. "Let me know if you need anything
else."
"Thanks," I said curtly. Could he possibly have any worse
timing? We dug into our meal with awkward silence. The only sounds
that could be heard were the scraping of silverware against plates.
It seemed to take me forever to finish my meal, especially since
Kunzite finished long before I did.
"Well, where to next?" I asked, taking out my credit card.
"No, this one's on me," he said.
"Are you kidding?" I said.
In response, he deposited the exact price of our meal, plus a
little extra. How on earth did he know how much our meal would cost?
We didn't even look at the menus. I filed away this question for
later analysis.
"So, how's Artemis doing?" asked Kunzite.
Now this was a conversation I could get into. "He's doing
great," I said. "I love that little fuzz ball."
"Has he gotten into your socks yet?"
"Yes, how did you know?"
"I'd tell you, but then I'd have to take off my shoes, and you
really don't want me to do that," he said, grinning.
"Heh. I'll bet. He's a smart little guy," I said. "He's
almost figured out how to open and close doors all by himself."
"Really? I didn't know cats could do that."
All too soon, we reached the car. "Where to now, Miss Daisy?"
"Miss Daisy?"
"Yeah," he said. "As in Driving Miss Daisy."
"Oh, I see." My watch reflection caught the corner of my eye,
and I looked at the face of it in horror. "Damn! I'm late for work!"
"I can drive you there if you'd like," Kunzite offered.
"No, no, no, don't do that. I don't want to trouble you," I
said, laughing nervously.
"It's no problem, really," he said.
I dug my fingernails into my palms nervously. What was I
going to do? I had an important shoot that day, but I didn't want
Kunzite to know that I'm a model. Which was more important, support-
ing someone I can't stand, or giving someone else a chance to prove he
was someone worth knowing? If he saw my work, he wouldn't be able to
look past all of the blinding lights and glitter. He'd only see
Venus, not me, the real me, Aino Minako. Or maybe I was afraid to let
him get too close, and he would see the Minako inside, the one I
didn't let anyone see.
"Minako?" he asked, bringing my thoughts back to the present.
"Is something wrong?"
I laughed nervously, but I could tell he wasn't buying it.
He opened the back door and motioned for me to go in. "Would
you like to talk about it? People say I'm a good listener," he said.
"Remember when you asked me what I was afraid of?" I said.
"Yes," he said expectantly.
"Love," I responded, looking at my hands. "I'm afraid of
love."
He nodded his head as if he understood. "I'm not going to
hurt you, Minako," he said softly. "I would never ask you to do any-
thing you're not ready for."
I looked into his eyes, and I could see that he was being
sincere. He really did care about me. Why didn't I see that sooner?
"So, you actually love me?"
"Why does that surprise you?"
"I've been so cold, I don't know why you don't see me as a
heartless creep," I said, my voice wobbly.
"You're not heartless, Minako," he said. That was all the
invitation I needed. Tears flowed from my eyes without warning, and
all of the hurts that I've been carrying inside of me ran down my
face. The mask fell away, and for the first time in years, I couldn't
pretend anymore. I wasn't Venus, the supermodel that drove men crazy
with a wink and a smile, or the bubbly blonde that loved to meddle in
my friend's love lives. For a brief moment, I was the scared little
girl living in the slums of London. I cried for all of the years I've
thrown away chasing a hopeless dream, and mourned my lost childhood.
He gathered me into his arms and held me until I couldn't cry anymore.
When I realized I had actually let my guard down, I raised my
head and saw two black circles on his white shirt. "Oh, God, your
shirt! I've ruined it!"
"Nonsense," he said, smiling. "I've never looked better.
So, where do you want to go?"
"Go? I look like a mess!" I moaned. "My mascara's all
streaky!"
"You look okay to me," he said, smiling. "Better than
'okay'."
"Liar," I said, smiling. "But thanks."
"Any time," he said.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
As soon as I got out of the car, a loud, tinny voice boomed
"KONBANWA, MINNA-CHAN!"
"Ahh! What the hell is that?" I screeched.
"Relax, Minako, it's just a casino sign."
And so it was. This monstrosity of a sign looked like a huge, neon
Buddha. Every few seconds, the Buddha would wave at people and smile
his gap-toothed grin. He was standing on huge, bright blue letters
that said "The Lucky Buddha," and it hurt my poor eyes to look at him.
"Yeah. It's fun."
"If you say so," I mumbled. "There are far to many flashing
lights here already. I get enough of that at work."
He looked at me strangely for a moment, and then he nodded as
if some huge revelation had struck home. "Well, there's this one room
in the back that's really quiet. It's called the 'chokahanka room.'"
"Choking Hanky Room? What on Earth is that?"
He laughed at me gently. "Chokahanka. It's a dice game,
Minako. It comes from the words chou and han, which mean odd and
even."
"Oh, okay," I said, although I still didn't quite get it.
"Well, I'll try anything once," I said, smiling gamely. Well, that
was mostly true, anyways.
We walked past the glittering slot machines and the roulette
tables, and gradually, the objects became less and less glamorous
until everything merged into a quiet gray. The floor was covered with
sawdust, and it looked more like a warehouse than anything else.
Stacks upon stacks of boxes and burlap sacks littered the room, some
reaching almost as high as the ceiling. The only light in the area
was sunlight that filtered through the cracks in the rotting, moldy
cement walls. I had the feeling that I shouldn't be there, nor should
any living thing, I thought as my stiletto heels clicked against the
ground. It smelled like death and decay. I began to chew my lip
nervously.
"Relax, we're okay. Just don't talk when you come into the
room." Kunzite gave my hand a reassuring squeeze.
I knitted my eyebrows together in confusion. "What kind of
gambling game is there where you don't speak?" I asked loudly.
Unfortunately, when I had said that, we had already walked
into the chokahanka room. A well-dressed, middle-aged man in a pin-
striped, Italian suit looked up and glared daggers at me. A woman
with hair like fire trailing down her shoulders watched the proceed-
ings and threw me a withering look with her indigo eyes. She was
long-legged, buxom, and she wore a floor-length dress that seemed to
be painted on. The woman radiated a strange kind of dark power that
made me shiver despite the humid, sticky air.
A huge pile of unmarked, non-sequential bills sat in the
middle of an elegant looking table that looked out of place in such a
dusty, obscure area. Everyone except me had placed their hands
demurely at their sides. There was an unspoken tension in the air,
as if I had committed an unspeakable crime. "What a bunch of touchy
people," I thought. "What did I say?"
A well-dressed, subtle looking man looked around the room to
find the offending voice, then he said in a low voice, "Play." He
withdrew his hand from a bamboo cup, and a pair of die fell onto a
Japanese mat. The whole room peered intently at the die to see
whether it had fallen on odds or evens. In the same quiet voice, he
announced "Chou." At that, an elderly man bowed his head and quietly
left the room. "I guess he lost," I thought.
I watched this strange game several times with Kunzite by my
side. For some strange reason, he never placed a bet. Why on earth
did we come in here if neither of us were going to play? Everyone
except the die thrower was staring at us, devouring us with their eyes
like a silent frenzy of sharks. I tugged gently at Kunzite's sleeve,
and he shook his head. "What? Why are we staying here? What is he
doing? What was he trying to prove?"
After an hour and a half, the man who rolled the die walked
out of the room. "Hn...come to think of it, haven't I seen him
before?" I didn't have time to think about it, since before I knew
it, Kunzite walked out of the room. "Kunzite, wait!" I cried. I
heard one massive hissing noise. Why was everyone telling me to hush?
I shook my head at myself and walked out. There was no way I was
going to stay here alone in this room full of creepy weirdos.
"Kunzite, where are you going?" He looked behind his shoulder
at me, as if he didn't want me to follow him. Why would he act so
strange? He had been Mister Sensitive all night, and now he was
stalking the casino worker. Was there something he wasn't telling me?
I ran as fast as I could in my spiked heels, but it wasn't fast
enough. I tried to remember how I had entered this strange place, but
it was pitch black now, and I couldn't see a thing.
A match striking a rough surface flared up out of the
darkness. A husky voice that seemed to come from a cloud of
cigarette smoke followed and asked, "Are you lost?"
At that point, I did the only thing I could do in a crazy
situation like that. I ran like hell, not caring that I couldn't see
where I was going. The next thing I knew, my heels broke, and I
slipped into oblivion. Before I did, I could have sworn that I heard
a woman laughing...
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Get that whore out of here!" I heard a woman screech.
Through my blurry vision, I could see the red haired woman...at least
I thought it was a woman...pointing at me and gesturing wildly.
"No! She needs my help." A navy colored blob with a white
head stamped his foot.
"Itai!" I murmured. "Not so loud! My head is killing me!"
My cries went unnoticed, and the pair continued their heated argument.
"It would be wise of you to consider your position in this
organization," she sneered. "You are my second. That means you
answer to me."
"You would be wise to consider your place," said the man, his
arms folded across his chest. "The only reason we're even having this
conversation is because Tanas is dead."
Their shapes were becoming wavy and indistinct, like some kind
of fever dream. The woman stroked her chin in a thoughtful way.
"Hn, perhaps you're right, Ace," she purred, and I heard a
faint sound of fingernails scraping against sequins. "After all, I am
only a woman," she said, placing husky emphasis on the last word. I
heard the sound of heels clicking urgently against cement.
Then I heard, "No, stop it! You'll kill her!"
"We can't have any witnesses," she said. I heard the sound of
feet shuffling and heavy breathing. After that, the world mercifully
chose to go black.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I heard the sound of angry knocking on my door. I rubbed my
head and slowly sat up. Was it all a dream? It certainly felt real.
I moved my hand over the back of my head and noticed an egg shaped lump.
"Open up!" demanded a voice. "This is the police!"
Panic registered immediately, clearing the mists of sleep from
my brain. What, exactly, had happened last night?
