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Innocent… just how she is. Pure… just how she remains.
-Tite Kubo
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"All that I am, I've strived for Sayuri-dono."
"You seem to be very loyal to our captain commander."
"…What is it that you needed?"
The two men.
The two friends.
The two enemies stood at the precipice of defeat.
"Would you die for me?"
"Never."
"Would you die for your princess?"
"Without hesitation."
The two soldiers.
Facing a death meant by other means.
"Then by all means, die."
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"How could you want this?"
"How could you not?"
A soldier at arms with a tarnished blade unable to cut.
His resolve as firm as his grasp, but hindered by a cut deeper than just skin.
"Has this all been a guise? Have we been nothing but tools at your disposal?"
The standing soldier can only smile at the kneeling one, pitiless and void of remorse.
"Tools are useful things. You are merely an obstacle. A rock in my path, to be kicked aside and disregarded."
The kneeling soldier cannot wince, but grinds his teeth in hate and shame.
Hate for the friend that betray him.
Shame for even trusting him in the first place.
"And what of Sayuri-dono? Has her friendship meant nothing?"
The soldier, now slayer, can only smile mockingly.
It is all that he knows to do.
"No. No, Sayuri is not a tool, because we both know she cannot be used. Nor is she a rock, because if one were to kick her, they should break their foot. Not at all is she those things." The betrayer steps forward, the blade caressing the soldiers cheek. "No, she is the lily that waits in the pond, her root strong beneath the wilted waters surface."
The blade digs a cut along the soldiers skin, a rivulet of blood dripping forth and slicking his face.
"A lily with a root. A lily, which, should not have been planted at all, and would have been better left elsewhere, where her beauty could not have tainted the waters below her."
"I don't understand."
"Then you never will."
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"This is revenge, isn't it?"
"No. Revenge is something that happens after something else has started. This is only the beginning."
They continue to fight with ambition, the closing cometh with a sliver of hope for the betrayed soldier.
To be quashed.
"The beginning of what?"
"Justice."
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Jin lay still along the sanded stones of a pathway chosen not oft by the present village inhabitants.
The night was over.
The early morning had just begun.
A single figure stood above the corpse, a blade methodically dripping of something once stilled.
What a pity he was so loyal.
What a shame he had to die.
Still a greater shame, should he have lived for the sake of the one woman who had wronged the figure.
In every way possible.
The man, the figure, the soldier, the slayer turned to wait in hefty silence for the woman in question.
Even more to pity was the slayer himself.
Because, when you're so in love that you go crazy with want, it's quite hard to see reality.
And when reality becomes skewered, it slowly cracks, then shatters, and all you have left are mangled pieces to watch in melancholy.
Before long, that reality seems fake, and all you know are the twisted pieces you created from it, in hopes of putting it back together again.
And before you know it, you've gone mad.
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Saya sat solemnly at the quaint tea table located within the confines of their inn room. A small cup of steaming tea was before her, a tint of brown and red confirming it as some variation of cinnamon and another unnamable spice. The steam drifted upwards, just before her blank features and closed eyes.
Hisoka's own were focused on tallying up a sum of bills, all in depicting piles of colors, and a small pile of Ryo. She sat across from Saya, her money placed on the table in front of her, and a tea pot that she'd retrieved from the inn's storage was beside her rather than a cup of her own. The pot was a simple off-base white, with blue lines that looked as if a blue paint brush had leaked across its surface.
"So when are these men that you talked about coming back?" Hisoka questioned without lifting her gaze. She bit her tongue in concentration as she added another bill from her sleeve.
"I'd expect soon." Thunder clapped in the distance. "I don't imagine the rain would bother them, but it is almost nightfall."
"Hn."
"You know," Saya brought the cup to her lips, taking in the warmth with a slight inhale, "You sound just like one of 'em. He's the one who has the personality depth of a rock." She took a sip, opening one eye to gauge Hisoka's expression, almost spitting out her tea when she suddenly took stock of a drowned Uchiha standing next to the front door.
She hadn't heard him come in.
His stare, she imagined, had a bit of annoyance behind it.
"Oh, Uchiha, I didn't see you there!" She said with a grin, sputtering a bit from her spilt tea. She settled it back on the table and wiped her chin with a thumb, also taking in Kisame's wet appearance as well. They must have gotten caught in the storm outside.
"Hey onna, who's the gaki with all the money?" Kisame sent a glance over to Hisoka, who swiftly swept the piles into one and back into the depths of her left sleeve. She gave him a suspicious look, as if she were afraid he'd snatch it up before her.
"I'm just here on orders." She sniffed, tilting her chin to the ceiling.
"What orders?" Itachi stepped forward, the water glistened against the artificial light above, his pristine cloak and ruffled hair dripping. Hisoka gulped, but otherwise kept a straight face as he sent a penetrating stare through her body.
"Orders from my mistress. It is of concerns regarding Sayuri-san's accord with her." She flicked a stray hair and relaxed her tense muscles. "I never wanted to be here in the first place." And with that, she leant on her palm and transfixed her gaze on Saya.
Saya once again casually took a gulp of tea, downing what was left of it before clapping it onto the table. Both men regarded her from the distance they'd been holding, waiting for her explanation. When she didn't give it immediately, and her face slowly upturned into a nervous grin, Kisame gave a long sigh and rubbed the cold from his hands.
"What trouble have you gotten into now, onna?" He stepped forward and, disregarding his dampened state, took a seat at one end of the table, between the two women. Itachi kept his place, but his glare softened into a weary hesitance.
The grin on Saya's face instantly soured as she crossed her arms along her chest.
"And what makes you think I got into any sort of trouble?" She eyed them for a second. "You have no faith in me, do ya?"
"Faith? Yeah, I have faith in you. Faith that you'll step into something you can't handle." Kisame retorted.
"And just what have I done to grant you this vision of me, hm?" Saya tapped a finger. "I've barely attracted any sort of trouble since I've met the both of you."
"Then what do you call what happened in the forest?"
"I said barely."
Kisame shifted Samehada across his lap, suppressing a grin as Hisoka slid nervously away in the opposite direction. It seemed as though she caught their scent, and knew that they could be dangerous.
Smart girl.
He looked back over to Saya, who tampered with a hangnail on her thumb, looking up sharply and giving Kisame a wild glare.
And what a dumb woman.
"I'm not dumb, teme." She chewed on the nail viciously before spitting it in the other direction.
Hm, had he said that out loud?
His grin broke through.
Oops.
"Then you're dense, onna." He replied, his grin falling quickly.
The reason his grin fell so particularly fast was due to a certain someone's shoe smacking him in the face. A slight marred area stood out as the shoe fell, his livid expression making Hisoka all but bolt out the door.
"Onna." He growled deeply.
Saya had her other shoe in her hand, a forced smile cracking her lips.
"Say that again, bakka ka." She warned.
"You do not want to pick a fight with me, woman." His tone made a shiver run down Hisoka's spine, then deep into her bones, freezing her into her place. She wanted desperately to jump up and heave out. Her eyes trailed over Itachi. Forget the door, she'd fly out the window if she had to, but something akin to that chilling fear glued her to the floor.
Fascination.
She couldn't believe this woman was picking a fight with a tall, muscular, blue guy, and a shinobi from the smell of things. It was…
Well, she couldn't decide if it was courageous or idiotic.
The woman must have been daft.
Entertainingly so.
"Oh? Maybe I do, Hoshigake. Then maybe we can settle this bug up your ass once and for all."
In the next moment, Kisame wielded Samehada, swiping it right at Saya's neck in a movement Hisoka had not anticipated, nor had she seen.
She also hadn't seen Saya block his slice with a weathered tanto, her grip on its hilt firm and unflinching as her eyes danced with a fiery contempt.
Where she had got the tanto was beyond Hisoka, though, she imagined her mistress had something to do with it.
Saya stared into Kisame's eyes, and his into hers as they held each other in place with one another's blades.
"You'll loose, onna. My sword will devour all your chakra and leave you with nothing but pretty flips and spins to rely on."
"Well, I guess it's a good thing I don't have much chakra then, isn't it? Besides, I fancy those pretty tricks could get me by just fine."
Their glares intensified as they leant forward, pressuring the blades tighter and creating a sharp noise from the contact.
In the next moment, Itachi stood between the two, his eyes spinning as he gave Kisame a hard look.
"Kisame."
He deliberated before letting out a small sigh. Kisame pushed back, relieving the stress on the smaller tanto, and in the process Saya pulled back, dipping the tanto back away on her person. Heaving Samehada once again onto his back, Kisame stood with a new patience.
"Sayuri-san." Itachi said without seeing her. "Please refrain from squabbling with Kisame."
"As you wish, Uchiha. It was only in good humor, rest assured." Saya said, stepping back with a light smile. Then, as sly as she was, she brought up a hand and inspected her nails. "I suppose I'll just keep my wonderful information to myself, then. It's not as if Ao-san would appreciate it anyway." At the mention of her nickname for him, Kisame narrowed his eyes dangerously.
"Hn."
"Ne, Uchiha, you can't tell me you aren't the least curious as to what my information pertains to?" Saya slid back towards the balcony, dropping her hand.
"Hn."
"Hn."
Itachi graced Saya a look.
"What? Two can play at that game."
"Stop playing cat-and-mouse, Sayuri-san. Just tell them about Hajii-sama." Hisoka blurted, standing on her own two legs now that she knew they would support her. She was still weary of the blue man, but otherwise riled herself up and stood her ground.
Time was money, and she definitely hated to waste either.
"Matsuko Hajii?"
Saya smiled cunningly over at Kisame.
"Who else, Ao-san? I struck a deal with the mistress of the brothel, where Mr. Matsuko is quite the regular. In fact, we have a nice little date with him later tonight." She leaned against the wall. "So, if you need to freshen up Hoshigake, the bathroom's free. I'm ready as is."
"Shut it." He growled. Itachi made a hand seal with relaxed hands before a gentle warmth evaporated the water from both his and Kisame's clothes. Hisoka watched them masking her astonishment (Because, really, she'd never actually seen a shinobi before) with an impatient bounce.
"Sayuri-san, it's getting late, and if you don't want Hajii-sama to figure out what you're doing , then you better get a move on whatever it is you're doing." She turned around to the door Kisame and Itachi had come through.
"Ne, Hisoka, where 'ya goin?" Saya leaned against the banister along the back wall.
Hisoka only twitched her head in reply before sliding the door open, and closing it behind her. The silence that ensued for a few mere moments made Saya want to itch something.
"Well, you heard the woman!" She chirped, a sudden smile lighting her face.
"What's with that smug look." Saya cocked her head, the smile reproachful to Kisame as that previous bubble of anger simmered in his veins.
"Smug? No, I'd like to call it an accomplished look, Hoshigake." She gave him her crooked smile. "No thanks for finding you man is necessary. Well, actually, money would be nice." The rain pattered along the roof, creating a muted silence as Kisame crossed his arms.
"What for?"
Saya twisted her wrist and turned towards the balcony, placing a hand against the rice paper screen.
"I sorta owe the brothels mistress some cash." Itachi noticed as her fingers twitched slightly. "I made a bet, you see. And, well, I've never been any good at gambling." She turned her neck to look over her shoulder. "But we'll worry about that later."
"Where do you get off telling us what to do?" Kisame gave Saya a deadly glare. "Don't forget your place, onna."
"It was a friendly suggestion, not an order, Hoshigake." She muttered. "Matsuko is supposed to arrive at the brothel soon, and it would be better if we were there to entertain him, don't you think?"
"You have a plan." It wasn't a question so much as a statement as Itachi walked over near Saya.
"Yeah, how about the two of you slap on some make-up and some dresses, and we can fool Matsuko into thinking you two lovely ladies are his company for the night?" She caught sight of Itachi's stare and let the humorous smile fall from her face.
"Actually, no. I just figured you'd hit him with a vase or something when he walks through the door. I don't think you want to wait around while he gets cozy with some hiyoko. That would be…awkward." She looked. "What? He's just some gangster, right?"
Itachi walked back to the entrance, Kisame at his heels as they disappeared out the door. Saya blinked.
"Oi, what?" Saya called out to them. "Did I say something wrong? Matte!" She dashed out after them.
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"Hage." She mumbled.
"What was that?"
"…Nothing."
"You're going to have to come out sooner or later, onna." Kisame said, a grin twitching on his lips. He stood in a small waiting room, near a sliding door that led a bedroom. They were in the brothel, and had been a little over twenty minutes. It was funny, Saya thought, how easily the Uchiha had asserted things between the mistress and himself. It was also sort of funny how the mistress had sided with the Uchiha over her on the matter of Saya's debt. The mistress, coy as ever, had sympathized with the Uchiha and Hoshigake, and in exchange for the ryo Saya had indebted herself in, she dealt her another deck.
Rather than owe that crazy amount of money, the mistress suggested that Saya dress up and, while waiting for Matsuko to arrive, attract customers along the patio of the brothel. When Kisame questioned her why she would make such a trade, the mistress had merely let a trail of smoke flow from her lips.
"Ah, yes. Why would I do such a thing?" Chou gave the men a knowing smile, Susuki oblivious to her mistress' intent. "I suppose it's because I believe Sayuri-san has the ability to rake in more than enough money in looks alone."
Kisame laughed. "You're kidding. All this smoke must have damaged your eyes."
"I'm quite sure the smoke has done me wonders." Chou sighed. "But that's besides the point. The point is, I'm offering an exchange. Take it or leave it."
"We don't owe you anything." Itachi said lowly.
"I didn't say that, did I?" She leaned back into the cushions of her seat. "However, Sayuri-san is in your care, correct?" She paused and took a drag. "Sayuri-san is the one in debt. She minimized her debt by half when she agreed to entertain me in a game of Nozonazo." She blew out through her nose. "Never the less, she is still in debt. She is also honor-bound, whether she seems it or not. You can tell by her eyes." She murmured the last part.
"Hn."
Chou seemed to snap out of a thought, and readdressed her guests.
"She won't leave until she pays back her debt, meaning you two gentlemen cannot leave until she pays back her debt. She is your charge, am I right?"
"It doesn't matter whether she wants to leave this village or not, she has no say." Kisame ignored her question.
"It will still be another three hours until Matsuko Hajii arrives. Let the girl pay back her debts. Besides, you wouldn't like it if other people played with your scores, now would you?" Chou curled a smile.
"Show us where we can apprehend Matsuko Hajii." Itachi's velvet voice cut through the thick air, Susuki awed by the eloquence of his tone. She'd only ever known one shinobi, and she wasn't much to talk about. Well, she was. In fact, the shinobi she knew was a lot to talk about. Just none of it was good, she thought with a giggle.
"Then it's a deal?"
"It's not my deal to make."
Suddenly, Saya opened the door with an annoyed frown.
"Oi. We have to work on our communication skills. Don't just leave and not say where you're goin." She huffed, the younger girls curiously peering in behind her. They had been patiently waiting for their mothers working hours to end when Saya had slid into their dwelling.
"Ah, Sayuri-san. We were just talking about you." Chou said, a hint of something devious slithering out her throat.
"I don't like the sound of that." Saya took a few steps forward, stopping before Kisame and Itachi. Susuki inched along the wall, closer to her mistress. "What's the talking?"
The look on Chou's face made Saya, for the first time in a while, nervous.
"Nani? What's with that look…?"
"Go fuck yourself Hoshigake."
"It's your own fault, Sayuri-san." Susuki whispered into her ear, finishing up the obi around Saya's waist. "You shouldn't have made the bet in the first place. Just feel lucky that the mistress is being so humble."
"Humble my ass." Saya twitched. "This is not what I'd call humble." She opened her mouth to say something else, but then sighed. "You're right. I'm jut too stubborn for my own good." She paused. "And arrogant. I guess I'm still not done with being Sayuri-dono."
"Sayuri-dono?" Susuki questioned curiously, but Saya turned away from her, tired of looking into the mirror she was standing in front of; rather, she took to the door. Just before she opened it, though, Kisame's voice emitted from the other side.
"It's getting late. The more time you waste, the less money you earn."
"Isn't that the truth." Hisoka walked from around the corner that led to the waiting room, dressed in a cleaner version of her previous dress. The dirt that seemed to coat her skin was washed away, leaving a golden visage along her limbs and face that showed. She placed a hand on her hip, impatient as ever. "Come on out and earn your debt, Sayuri-san. It's not like you're nothing we haven't seen before."
"Cheeky brat." Saya muttered cheerfully. "I'm coming, I'm coming. Getting into a kimono like this is hard work, ya know?" With that, she slid open the door.
"About time." Kisame said, opening his eyes and shoving off the wall.
"Patience is a virtue, Hoshigake." As she slipped through the door, Hisoka bit back a sigh that had almost escaped her lips. It wasn't as if Saya was a dog or anything, she thought. When she had first laid eyes on the elder woman, the first word she tagged to her was exotic. There weren't many people in Omashu that carried a skin tone like hers, even for distant traders. It was a tone of mocha, almost a deep brown, and her eyes were gold as well, so they accented the unfamiliarity of Saya herself. The earrings she wore, too, seemed like a custom that was unknown to Hisoka.
Actually, the exotic tag was the second word she pinned to her. The first was yakuza. The only people she'd ever seen before with a look any similar to Saya's was a group of thugs she'd once been cornered by when she was younger. She'd been pick-pocketing on their turf, and they'd decided to teach her a lesson.
Regardless, as Saya stood before her now, she wondered if she'd seen anything so different before.
She wasn't as gorgeous as some of the women she'd seen in her time. No, in fact, she'd seen a lot more beautiful women in the slums never mind the center of Omashu, where the more endowed society lurked. Many had pampered hair, slim bodies, full lips. Yeah, Hisoka had seen way more beautiful women than she could remember.
Still.
As Saya came from behind the door, she couldn't help but be surprised.
She was a sight, sure. The kimono was one of their best, a red and gold piece that held a salamander theme. The cuffs slid down mid-arm, and were speckled with a design akin to the skin of, of course, a salamanders. The neck was a deep ruby, open enough to view her collarbone, but nothing more along her torso, and was tied back by a thick, golden obi.
Susuki had done her hair nicely as well, tied back in some sort of decorated style, leaving only her rather outgrown bangs to tickle her face. Because her hair was back, her earrings glistened along her ears, only adding to the striking nature of her vision. She even had a bit of face paint on, lining her eyes and lips.
But it wasn't her dress, so much, as the way she held herself. It was as if she were some type of nobility, with straight posture and refined eyes. Feeling something tense to her right, she wondered what it was and found the shinobi Saya had been calling Hoshigake. He looked just as he had a moment ago, bored and obviously out of place in a world like hers. But for some reason, Hisoka thought, his eyes seemed different. It was almost as if…
Looking back, she narrowed her eyes. This Saya was much different from the tricky, obnoxious woman she had met earlier.
Rather suddenly, Saya's dress got caught along her leg, and fed up with the heavy clothing, she forcefully kicked it away from her with a scowl on her face and a gurgled snarl.
Hisoka almost cradled her head.
Okay, so maybe she wasn't so different.
Said woman brushed herself off, noticing Kisame watching her.
"What?"
Kisame shook his head.
"Nothing."
"You better get out there before it gets too late." Susuki sang as she came from behind Saya. However, Saya was busy looking around the room.
"Oi, where's the Uchiha?" She asked.
"Mind your own business, onna." Kisame turned to the threshold of the room.
"Hage."
"Wench."
With that, he left the room and decided to track down his partner. He assumed he was waiting near the entrance of the brothel, closest to where Matsuko Hajii would be coming from. Itachi-san had always been reserved, so understanding him was difficult. Hell, it was impossible. But that didn't mean the boy didn't have habits, and Itachi did have a habit of being laconic. So of course, what else would he be doing other than casting a genjutsu to ensnare the target?
His mind shimmered with an image he'd rather not think about, so brushing it away easily, he continued along the hallway, tired of dealing with people he'd rather not know.
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"I hate this."
"You've made a lot of money though. Actually, you've made more than a lot, and just from standing here!"
"It's demeaning."
"I don't know, I sorta took you for the type to do this kinda stuff."
"I don't know where you mind is, gaki , but I have never done something like this." Saya hesitated. "Well, I guess being hammered and wobbling around a strange city isn't any better."
"What was that, Sayuri-san?"
"Nothing."
Hisoka, Susuki, and Saya stood along the entrance of the brothel. It was a stretch of wooden floor, littered with a few other women calling out to men suggestively. The men, of course, called out back just as bad.
The air was thick, almost clogged with the scents of food and summer, and the slums lit up surprisingly well in the night's shadows. Lanterns were strung sloppily from shack to house, inn to ramen shop. The paper was folded by hand, some looked as if they'd been stolen from someplace nicer; They left no place with darkness. The nightlife was popular, it seemed, but mostly occupied by men coming home from some low-paying, manual labor job. Some grinned sheepishly at one-another, too busy to partake in anything because their thoughts were fixated on wives and children at home, while others made their ways towards bars and brothels to entertain and distract themselves from their mundane lives.
Saya hadn't seen this familiarity the night before. She hadn't glimpsed even the slightest jovial face or gesture when they had arrived in the city, and she supposed that was because they had arrived so late in the night. It was strange, to be sure, that there was so much…
She couldn't name it.
Was this happiness? Ignorance to the poverty? Or pure brilliance? The disguise these villagers had thrown over their rusty neighborhood was astounding.
Saya hadn't expected this, not in the least. She'd seen a lot of different kinds of villages during her inebriated travels, and although some of them were difficult to recount, she definitely hadn't come across anyplace like this. The colors, the laughter, just the togetherness of the whole lot. It was so similar to a simple village, someplace in the middle of nowhere. So contrasting to the big-city, impoverished feel that it had given off during the day.
Saya sat lazily along the porch as Susuki and some other woman busied themselves with a potential customer, leaving Saya to herself as she watched the people. Her kimono felt so strange against her skin, and so very different in comparison to her usual attire. Actually, now that she thought about it, she couldn't remember the last time she had dressed up.
Was it the time that she had to play ambassador to the rival clan leader, that so much wanted to best her at commanding a correction squadron?
Or maybe it was that time her sister and her had to meet potential bachelors, back before their mother had passed?
Saya drawled and scratched the side of her face.
That was a really long time ago. So long, and in such a different time of her life.
The thought of that party almost made her chuckle.
Her sister had absolutely thrived in the attention she attracted from the boys. Other families of great prestige had dragged them along to meet the oh-so legendary Imatsura Rokuro's daughters.
That being her father, obviously. He had been a, what Saya would call, bone head warrior. That isn't to say he was stupid, or anything of the sort. Honestly, the man was a complete genius in battle strategy and the art of war: But you see, that's all he did.
Fight, that is.
He was a pure-blood warrior, shinobi, murderer, whatever it is you wanted to throw and tag to him. Saya still couldn't understand how her mother, gentle and patient, had ever fallen in love with such a man. Maybe it was because she was so different? But Saya hated to think of funny things like love and the likes.
Regardless, her father had been a well-known leader, and so of course other families wanted dibs on the prospect of having their sons marry the would-be clan leader: Imatsura Misa. Saya's sister was all that she wasn't, even at a young age: She knew how to cook, how to clean, how to dance and play the kokyū; She was great at drawing and painting, especially with watercolors, and she understood poetry very well.
She just couldn't write it.
So really, if Saya wanted to put it simply, Misa was a girl. A well-educated, and very feminine girl.
During that party, there were at least a dozen boys their age, or a bit older, most of whom were just as put out to be there as Saya was.
"Parties like this are stupid."
Little Saya, stood with arms crossed, her eyes drooped to a lazy stare as they almost always were when she was in a mood. She watched the families flirt their way to her fathers fancy, though, he of course saw right through it. No one could really tell, but Saya had gotten used to reading her fathers hands.
His hands, she thought, always sort of reflected his mood, whether they were fisted in anger, flattened in irritation, or laced when in the company of her mother. Right now, they were tucked into the crooks of his pits, his irritation at the event obvious in his stance. Saya had been playing near the elders quarters when she overheard (Not eavesdropped, no. Definitely not that.) a conversation between them and her father. The party was their idea, and while her father thought it was a fools event, they had forcefully insisted.
So there they were.
Her mother was absent from the festivities; She had been bed-ridden as of late, with a chest-cold of some sort.
At the thought of her mother, Saya dragged her eyes to her sister, who stood dazzling among a small group of the dozen who had been captured by her charm. She laughed along at something Saya hadn't heard, only making her sigh out of boredom.
"What a drag."
"Sayuri-dono!" Jin poked her cheek with a frown. "You should be more involved with these political meetings."
"Political meetings my ass. This is just a dog show, and Misa's the prize." She drawled.
"Where did you learn that word?" Jin asked, astonished. He regarded her as if she just confessed to hammering a kitten to death.
"The cook called her husband it the other day." She told him casually. "But I still think this is a waste of time."
"Jealous?" Saya looked behind Jin to see her other best friend, Sato Katsutoshi. His family, very akin to Jin's, had served Saya's for quite a few generations, all the way back to the first ninja war. However, unlike Jin's, Sato's was higher along the social latter. Actually, his father had been her fathers captain for a while.
Sato was a slight boy, thinner and less wiry as some boys were his age. He had long fingers, and long legs that made him very much regal looking compared to Jin, who was a darker skin tone and all-together his opposite. Sato's hair was a dark brown, clipped at the sides and pulled into a tidy plait on the back of his head. Saya had been friends with him and Jin since they were toddlers; however, Sato had always had a certain sharpness to his smoldering eyes, ashen in color and wicked in some respect. He was a very smart boy, and preferred to spend his time in a dojo, practicing kendo, and in his room, reading things Saya hadn't the slightest interest in reading.
"Eh, Katsu-kun?" Saya slurred.
"Misa-chan being next in line to lead the clan." He said with upturned lips, adjusting the glasses on his nose. "That's what this dinner is all about." Towards the end of his statement, he gave the boys surrounding Misa a mild look of distaste before looking back to Saya.
"Buuuuuu…?" Saya stared back at Katsu.
"You are not a pig, Saya-chan. Speak like a normal person." He scolded.
"Puuu-Puuu." She replied, making a face and sluggishly flapping her hands. Then, Jin was beside her, mimicking her face and movements.
"Buuu-Buuu."
"…I'm not doing that." He said with an irritated scowl. They continued to make noises, unheard amongst the chatter of the room.
"Buuu-Buu." Katsu twitched, his ground teeth evident between his curled lips. They inched towards him, invading his personal space and making noise until a near-by woman in an extravagant kimono gave Saya and Jin an irritated glance. Next to her was a young boy, most likely her son, who had a half-eaten piece of food in his hand.
"A good thing that the elder one is decent." The woman sneered. Her nose was upturned, giving her the appearance of pig. Her eyes were thin and squinted, and a large beauty mark was situated next to her snout. "Otherwise I would rather you marry a cow before a wild thing like that." She sniffed and coaxed her son in the opposite direction, near where Misa was standing.
As the woman departed, Katsu, Jin, and Saya looked from the woman, then to each other.
"Is it just me or did that woman look like a…" Saya drawled off. Then, as if sharing her thoughts, Katsu shoved his face next to his friends.
"Buu-Buu!"
The three choked on laughter, gripping their sides and doubling over at the irony of the moment.
Saya's eyes focused back, the memory still lingering like a lovers chaste kiss.
She cupped her hand to her cheek, deep in thought as a feeling left her cold on the street.
Everything had been so warm then.
But it's funny, 'cause she knew now that the warmth had been bound to get cold; after all, even the hottest of soups chilled when left out.
She and her sister, so different.
Misa, the fairy princess, while Saya, the perfect little soldier.
"Hey, onna! What color underwear you wearing?" A high voice called out. Saya kept her gaze centered on the ground. He wasn't talking to her, no, he was talking to some other girl. A girl, maybe, that wouldn't punch his face in and drag his body off somewhere so he could drown in his own blood.
"Onna! We're talkin to you! Why don't you stand up so we can se you better!" Saya twitched minutely. Then, lifting her face, she was met with the sight of two obviously drunk men, painted head to toe with the blush of sake.
"Oi." She said, keeping her face neutral. "What is the difference between a man and a catfish?" She asked with a stressed cheerful tone. The men looked to one another doubtfully, wondering if the woman before them was all there. Sure, she'd definitely caught their eye as they were heading to another bar. She was the picturesque of something exotic, the one thought, with her long legs crossed and her dark skin, she stood out amongst the other women along the building. The other immediately related her to a woman he'd seen a few years back that he'd had a yen for, when he'd began fishing. Still, the one on the right decided to answer.
"I don't know, what?"
Saya's smile morphed into a terrible grin.
"One is a bottom-feeding scum-sucker and the other is a fish." She growled, something dark enveloping her, making the men take a step back.
"Now, Sayuri-san. How are you ever going to pay back your debt if you scare away all your mone-Er, customers?" Hisoka sang forcefully, throwing a smile to the men. They laughed back, tensely.
With a shuddering sigh, Saya stood, attempting to display herself in the least threatening position. She placed a hand on a jutted out hip, and with a regal expression, she spoke to the men.
"Welcome to our loving embrace, masters. We have only a few rooms tonight," She told them in a faux-sex encrusted tone, "So only a limited chance to have wildly passionate sex with the most beautiful women around." She finished off with a wink.
Now, please, when you picture this, picture it right.
Saya was in no way pleased with what she'd just uttered. In fact, she didn't think she'd ever verbally used the word sex before in her life. So, at the mention of it, she suppressed a vapid cringe at the lowness to which she had just stooped.
Yeah, she'd been a damn drunk bum for a while, but this was just…Not on her high morals list, exactly. She didn't have anything particular against prostitution, not that she encouraged it, but it was not, nor anywhere near, her line of work.
Of course, she wasn't actually doing the prostituting part, but she was damn sure by the steamy looks on the men's faces and the slight dab of drool on their lips, that they were definitely picturing her naked.
"You up for sale, pretty lady?" The one said haughtily.
Hell no.
"I'm sorry, but Sayuri-san is only a prop. But I promise you, you'll be more than pleased with the ladies inside." Hisoka beamed in a business-like manner.
After deliberation, the men followed Hisoka into the brothel, slipping Saya ryo as they walked by her with tasteless smiles. After they disappeared within the place, Saya dropped the stance with disgusted snarl.
"Damn animals." She hissed.
"All men are animals, dear." Susuki said ruefully, stepping next to Saya.
"Have I made enough, yet?" She whined with a fan of her hand.
"Surprisingly, you've made more than enough." Saya blinked.
"What?"
"I mean," Susuki continued, "The money you've made yourself is little to the actual amount you need, but the sales you've promoted have tallied up." She smiled. "The mistress will be pleased."
Something made Susuki's smile falter, if only a second. A grin had broken out on Saya's face, so completely childish and happy compared to her constant snark, that it surprised Susuki. But, she placed a small smile back in place before Saya noticed anything, and crossed her arms with a chuckle.
"Outta the way." A shove sent a woman sprawling into another as a man pushed his way to the porch. The yelp the woman shrieked caught both Saya and Susuki's attention, causing them to look over to the noise. They were met with the sight of a single, surly man chewing on a low cigarette. His eyes were hard, and contrasted with his rather pristine dress and handsome face. At least, it would have been handsome if he didn't look so terrible. He had a mean expression, and behind him stood a rather large group of men, all of whom were ruffed up and quite tough looking.
"And that," Susuki sighed, "Would be Hajii-sama."
Okay.
I guess I used a lotta Japanese crap in this chapter.
So, translation time:
*Hage basically means 'dick head', which is exactly what Saya called Kisame towards the beginning of this chapter.
*You should all damn right know what 'yakuza' means.
* 'Buu-Buu' is the sound a pig makes in Japanese. So basically 'Oink-Oink'.
I think that's all I really used.
Hm. I guess I should confront my two terribly stupid mistakes. I realized, after much re-reading, that not only do I have terrible editing skillz, but also that I spelt 'Pein' as 'Pain'. Don't worry, I already slapped myself for it.
Oh, and another thing. In the last chapter, I referred to the monetary unit as 'yen', when we all know in the Narutard world, its all bout the 'ryo' (Sue me if the spelling is wrong). So, yeah. Just ignore that. It's definitely ryo, so if I accidentally say otherwise in the future, you definitely will know I'm a retard.
I know, once again, you really don't want to read all this, but I wanna say it:
You know how usually, when a new character is introduced, the next couple of chapters are used to explain or allude to that persons past and current issues that he or she is facing? Like in an arc? Yeah, well, that's what I'm doing here. The next few chapters will involve Saya's contract-binding with Akatsuki, then it will delve into her past for quite a few chapters after that. Then, finally, once I've had my fun, I'll get on with life and actually get to the main plot.
If you guys have any problems with that, please, do tell. Especially if I'm being too descriptive. I usually wouldn't care, but I'm a little annoyed with myself and I'd like some feedback.
Jolly good.
~Serb
P.S. I just realized today how amazing Serverus Snape is.