Kurohoshi Agency
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Disclaimer: I do not own Slam Dunk.
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Click.
Click.
Click.
Ayako felt her own tenseness, and did all she could to look natural. She wrapped her coat around her edgily. She knew that Miyagi is following her in secret, and she also knew that the agents were there, too. She suppressed the rising fear in her stomach.
//Damn it, Ayako, you are a trained policewoman. Don't chicken out. //
Sights of the mutilated hostess' bodies came back to her. The blood. The gore. But she knew that she must stay calm, and tightened her grip on the knife she kept in the coat, her ears alert to any movement.
Cold winds swept the pavement, causing fallen leaves to rustle.
Click.
Click.
Click.
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He crouched in the darkness, watching the scantily clad woman come down the lane. Her gait was jittery and her calve muscles are tensely knotted. He knew that she is aware of his possible attack. He knew that she would be prepared – and armed.
But what difference does it make? Things are getting more and more exciting. The slut. She would not live to see daylight.
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Her apartment clearly in sight, Ayako felt more of the fear easing out of her. Surely the murderer would not dare to strike where there would be passers-by. But where is he? Despite her fear she did not forget her mission to bait the culprit. If he did not strike…
She had a feeling that something bad is going to happen. Not to her.
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He pulled his gloves on quietly. Neatly. Deftly. His rubber soles made no sound
on the cemented pavements. Somewhere faraway, the roar of a car engine could be
heard. The moonlight lit the walkway gently, coldly. He frowned slightly,
moving into the shadows.
He did not like the light.
The shadows, is where I prefer to be.
Darkness gave him reassurance, and out in the daylight he feels exposed, naked. Only in the shadows could he feel that nothing else in the world mattered.
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"I'm leaving, Hizakawa, sick of you and your measly snake!" She pointed a blood-red fingernail at the slithering reptile on his shoulders, "You stink, and you couldn't even give me what I need! Why should I degrade myself to live with a fucking pauper?"
He lifted his eyes, to the dimly lit lights. A crooked curve to his lips caused a tiny prick of fear to run down her spine. He reached for the switch, and switched the overhead lamp off. All that was left in the room was a faintly flicking table lamp, illuminating his features, enhancing the shadows.
"So you are going to leave the fucking pauper, and join the big boss instead?" He rose, going round the table, "So that was how highly you think of yourself, slut?"
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The faint clicking of high heels in the darkness sound fatally seductive.
He tightened his hold on the rug sack.
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