Renard:Oooook...hm…onward…read?

"Before we move on, you learn the rules." The little girl nodded. She was no older then 10, dressed in a white skirt and shirt, both of which were stained in blood and dirt. "You may never, ever wear white." He said, latching onto her left sleeve and ripping it harshly. The girl looked at her ripped sleeve, then back at him, her large red eyes searching for answers.

"Why?" She asked, holding onto her left arm protectively.

"White symbolizes light, something that all humans are unhealthily obsessed with. It's an attention drawer, an excuse to stay within the eyes of those around you. I believe in a disappearance, a distance from society at large. In order to do this, you will wear only black." He explained, grabbing onto her right sleeve and ripping it as well.

"Rule number two. You never question my authority." He slapped her across the face with all his might. She toppled to the floor, holding onto her face. Mommy said to be strong…she thought, standing again with a tear forming in her eyes.

"Rule number three. You take your punishments silently and without complaint." He said, smacking her again. This time she remained standing, a hand over her heavily assaulted cheek. She blinked back tears, and nodded to show she understood.

"Last, you will always respect me as a master. Failure to comply will result in punishment." The little girl nodded.

"Sir, when I get older, what will I do here?" She asked, looking up at him with her soft, hungry eyes. He sighed, resisting the urge to punish her for speaking out of turn.

"Anything I command of you."

He shook his head. All of that had taken place so long ago. He almost wished she had stayed that young forever, and she could have just remained his personal servant for the rest of her miserable existence.

"Where will you have us look first M'lord?" A young man said. He was tall, with almost black board straight shoulder length hair. He was almost snake like in appearance, with his teal eyes in narrow slits, and he had a small flat nose with slit nostrils.

"Anywhere you feel a demonic presence. You have permission to kill anyone who you feel need to kill. It's vital that we find her." The man bowed and left the office, shutting the large mahogany doors behind him.

Amon sighed, and leaned back in his official looking chair. "The only good news for her is she makes convenient bait." He muttered, straightening the collar of his pin stripe suit. He looked out the window, staring deep into the gardens where several startled appearing demons where scurrying about, carrying out their master's orders. He slowly ran his hand along his stubbly chin, head floating in thought.

He stepped into the room, which was small and consisted only of a blanket less cot. She looked up, and quickly stood, head bowed in respect for her master. He waved her off, a gesture which forcefully meant for her to sit down, which she did immediately.

"Riena, I've decided that you are old enough to trade in your duties as compound servant, and become my first assassin." Her eyes lit up. He finally has enough faith in me…she thought. It had been five long years of servitude since she arrived. "You realize that this means you will face full penalties and responsibility, right?" Riena nodded. She didn't care, she was just happy to know she was finally good enough to be an assassin. He left the room almost immediately, without shutting the door. Riena sat there, staring at her hands in disbelief. For five years Amon had been slowly easing her into his dream plot, to create a group of demons who would kill all humans to rid this earth once and for all of their wasteful stupidity. I will not let you down Amon, I promise to surprise you.

He sighed heavily again, and pushed himself up from his chair. He had gotten himself into a bigger jumble then he had expected, but his last minute plot just happened to be perfect. If I stop them…then they won't be able to stop me and then… he cracked a grin. "Victory." His fist clenched up, grin spreading.

Mind packed with three years of newly learned techniques, and new ideals, I set out from the compound. The target was an exmurderer, who had just been released on parole. He was a good start since there were many who would want his blood. My hand ran over the cold black metal hand gun which was strapped to my belt. Fresh adrenaline beat through my blood stream. Tonight was one to remember.

He took one look at the gun, and quickly retrieved his own hunting rifle from his wall. His back was turned and I took the chance. Damn, this is an apartment building… lights about the neighborhood turned on, and there was a furious pounding at the door. Searching for an escape route, I found the back door. I had enough time to carve my symbol into his wrist before I heard faint sirens. My black velvet cloak did little to slow my fall off the third story balcony. A sprained ankle and broken foot later, I was back at the compound.

Witnesses.

They were next.

She jumped awake, breathing heavily. She had forgotten for so long that night. She was much happier leaving it deep in the forgotten recesses of her mind. Slightly bewildered by her own mind's wandering, she looked around the white room which was still shadowed by night. She was still at Kurama's as planned, though temptation tugged at her to do otherwise and stay at her own apartment. The blankets made a stiff noise as she pushed them off and quietly stood on the balls of her feet. The floor creaked, causing her to reflexively wince. Her stomach growled quietly, pulling her out of her dreamlike state. She sighed, and laid a scared hand across her stomach, staring blankly out the window. I wonder if he stayed at the compound to rebuild, assuming it was badly destroyed. I hope so. She turned, and took another look around the room.

"What am I doing here? I guess I am just ungrateful." She picked up a corner of her skirt, and gently fingered the hem. "To rub salt in the wound, I am not even allowed to carry this out on my own." She sat down on the floor, skirt spread around her knees. "Thank you Koenma." You're day will come…Prince.

Kurama was looking through the scraps of paper which were scattered about the table top. He found a suspitious white square with careful cursive, which he read carefully.

I was sworn to silence under pain of death. I can not tell you anything, I am merely your prisoner now

Surely you know by now. Koenma never misses a step and we all know what his lackeys are like

I told you I can not tell you anything

Being sworn to silence means more then not being able to speak

I am not worried about the punishment. I was assigned to a roll which I have failed at my entire life. The least I can do is protect those who have dealt with me all this time.

I have been trained to kill. The death which has fallen to your hands is cleansing, and the shame that is forced apon such action is a figment of the humans imaginations. My employer said that, and I live by those words. I see that you no longer look at things the way Yoko Kurama would have. I know things have changed for you, here, in this world of filth and endless self destruction, but I would have expected more Yoko's personality to spike through. You are tired of being compared to him aren't you? You wish for once you could just be one person, yourself, not the holder of a legend. Fine, I will not make any more mention of Yoko, but remember this: I do not wish to live in my past, so stop asking questions while you can. I am not limited to only killing humans

I have said too much already at your hands. I will not stay here, nor will I allow your "ruler" to punish me. You can not confine me and if you do your end will come quick. Good bye…Shuichi.

He shook his head. Riena had been the most confusing case yet. She seemed to resist, then give in and accept wholeheartedly. He crumpled up the paper, then paused. With a small sigh, he uncrumpled the paper, carefully folded it, and put it in his pants pocket.

Renard: That was longer then expected….-shruggles- REVIEW!