(A/N: I lied, there is no sexy times, but that is because this chapter is so damn long that I had to split it. But I hope ya'll enjoyed the flashback! And yes, this is a flashback chapter.)
"This is him? This is who you need me to steal from?" I picked up the file from the table, studying his face. He was tall, with a strong build, and long black hair that was pulled into a low ponytail. His eyes were closed in the picture. His expression was serene, his pose poised. He was handsome, I'd give him that.
He looked expensive, a bit cocky, but not dangerous at the slightest. Which only made me more interested as to why I was getting paid so much.
"Don't be so self-assured. He's smarter than he looks," Shachi said with a gruff voice. Shachi was large, big, intimidating, and muscular. More like the type of men I'd be used to taking out.
My fingers traced my target's name.
Yomi.
"Why am I doing this again?" I asked Shachi. I didn't usually expect the client to give me a background story, I was used to doing what I was told and getting paid for it. But something was different about this case. People usually called me to steal or take out other criminals, or at the least, some sketchy low rate politician. This guy looked important.
"He's was my boss. After dedicating fucking 10 years to this company, he fires me and hires someone else as his right hand man!" Shachi yelled, slamming his fists on the table. My coffee cup struggled to keep itself from toppling over.
"Okay, enough of the sob story. You promise to pay me in full right?"
"If you can get what I need, I'll give you anything you like," he snorted, taking a long drag from his cigar.
"And what exactly do you need?"
He took out another file and a black USB drive and handed them to me.
"Follow these instructions, I need as much information as I can and this is how to get it."
I flipped through the files and frowned. This was way too easy.
"This is all you want me to do? Grab some files and account numbers from his computer? You don't even want me to punch him in the face?"
"He's sharp. Not a lot of things get past him, I can attest to that," Shachi gritted his teeth, rubbing the deep scar on the right side of his cheek "I need someone skilled in stealth, and even if I have to pay a pretty penny to make sure this goddamn job gets done right, then I'll do it."
"Whatever gets my rent paid," I replied, shoving the files into my backpack.
This had to be some kind of joke. This was way too simple. I bet any living person that I could have done this job with my eyes closed. All I needed to get in was a rented well ironed suit, a warm smile, and some bullshit water cooler talk. The building was huge; it was great for hiding and it had so many people, it was impossible for everyone to know anyone. This was so fucking easy that I literally took the elevator up into the last floor and walked into the unlocked and unguarded room. This was coming from a person that had to literally climb through vents and underground sewers to get my past jobs done.
Of course there was at least some type of effort. I had to follow this man's schedule like crazy. He had so much going on that it was impossible to know when he was in his office and when he wasn't. But all I had to do was stalk him for a few days and wait for a time where I was certain he wouldn't be coming back into the office. One thing that was good about this man was that he was meticulous. Everything had an exact time of operation, so it made it very easy to just walk in. From what I've learned was that he was fair, intelligent, charming, and impressive. He had the walk, talk, and the face of a CEO.
I instantly hated him.
Although his meeting ended at 3:00 and I had a solid 45 minutes until he came back, I still tried to finish at breakneck speed. This mission was a joke, but I still felt slightly unsettled by it. I wouldn't have taken the job if I didn't need the money so desperately, but the high amount money I was to be receiving acted as an anchor for my cockiness. Shachi could have hired any other petty thief to complete this job, yet he picked me by reputation.
I scanned the files, collecting passwords and data, browsing documents and picking out the right ones. I double checked twice to make sure I had everything right, but while I was scanning the accounts again, some of the numbers weren't adding up. That's when I noticed that someone was stealing. The change was small, almost insignificant, smartly extracted to take enough for it to not be noticeable. It was like taking quarters from your parents coin case, except this person was embezzling hundreds of thousands of dollars.
I laughed to myself, breaking the silence, only to be physically stopped by a quick whizzing sound. I immediately moved my head to the right and swiveled around my chair to face the fist that happened to fly by me.
"Why hello," I waved as I stared at none other than Yomi. He was even more good looking up close. His skin was smooth and pale, his hair shiny. The only thing I didn't like was the menacing glare he bore down on me.
He didn't say a word as he swung at me again. I managed to slip out of the chair and dodge him. As I spun around and tried to hit him, he caught me by my wrists and twisted me as my back hit the ground. Shachi forgot to mention how fast this guy was.
"Who the hell are you," he said with a silky voice I didn't expect. He pulled both my hands behind my back as his heel dug my head into the freshly cleaned carpet.
I grunted and struggled under his grip, but it was unbreakable. I could feel the heat rise to my cheeks, this was so embarrassing, this wasn't part of the plan.
"Let go of me!" I yelled as I thrashed around pathetically. If you wanted to ever see a magickarp in human form, well then you should have been there, because I probably looked hilarious. Never in my life did I not have anything up my sleeve. I had a small pocket knife hidden in the pocket of my jacket, but there was literally no way I could get to it.
"Who sent you here," he asked again, as he put more pressure on his heel.
"How the hell did you even find me?! Weren't you supposed to me in a meeting?" I asked through the pain.
"You think a petty good for nothing thief would be able to just sneak around and fuck with my work? You're not the first one who tried and you are definitely not the last. I have eyes everywhere, and someone as low skilled and pathetic as you would only get by through a lucky streak."
My blood boiled with every word he uttered, and I vowed that I would kill him once I got out of this hold.
"You certainly talk big with someone with such a small brain," I spat. I stopped struggling as I felt some of the pressure lift from his foot.
"Says the person whose about to crawl out of here with two useless limbs," he threatened as he pulled my arms tighter. I gritted my teeth to stop from yelping in pain.
"You worked in this company for what? A couple of years? Yet you haven't noticed that money is draining right out from under your nose. And you have the audacity to call me stupid when you can't even manage to find a simple mistake like that."
He was silent for a moment.
"You're lying."
"See for yourself. There on the table. It's on your fucking laptop," I tried pointing my chin towards his desk, but I couldn't manage to move my head. He turned his face towards the computer and took a while to add the first few numbers out.
"Oi! Can you be any slower?" I really shouldn't be poking the dragons belly, but my instinct told me that he wouldn't try to harm me. He had a grip of steel and a look that could burn holes through your skin, but he didn't look like someone who could murder. Horribly maim? Probably. But not kill. At least not with his own hands.
"How the hell did you figure that out?" he asked, incredulous.
"I'm good with numbers." To my surprise, he let go of my hands and took his foot off my head. I turned around and pulled out my pocket knife, only to feel the cold touch of a gun on my forehead. The hand that held my knife was trembling. I might not be able to get out of this alive, but I could move fast enough that maybe he wouldn't live either. He was crouched in front of me, his neck perfectly exposed to the blade.
I was about to lunge, but the words that rolled off his tongue stopped me from doing so.
"Hear me out. Whatever Shachi is paying you, I will pay you triple if you work under me," his eyes were still hard, but his expression didn't look angry. It looked awed. Determined.
"How can I trust a man who carries a gun around?" I asked.
"I have reasons why I'm so paranoid," he grimaced as he stared at my knife.
"How did you know about Shachi?"
"He was out to get me since day one of my employment. It wasn't hard to find out who sent you to me. But those account numbers, it couldn't possibly be him. He isn't smart enough," Yomi smirked.
"I suggest you fire your accountant, and maybe screen check your employees."
"I will, starting with you. I'd like to hire you as my personal auditor."
I put my knife down, and he lowered his gun. Was this guy serious?
"You're seriously fucking with me right now."
"I'm not," he deadpanned, as he stood up and offered me a hand. I swatted him away and picked up my knife off the floor.
"And if I don't?"
"I'll let you go and pretend this whole thing never happened."
I scoffed. "There's no way you could hire me. Not with triple the money Shachi offered me."
"I own a multimillion dollar company. Try me," he said, a bit of cockiness wedged into his voice.
"I could kill you right now you know that. You're unguarded with no cameras."
"But you won't. One, because I have a gun. And two, because you would have done something about it."
I let my guard down and brought my arms to my side. "And what made you want me?"
"I don't just need someone smart. I need someone sneaky, someone who thinks two steps ahead. Your assets would be valuable in this company, your strengths would be put to good use." He kept his distance from me, but he wasn't afraid of stepping forward either.
"Says the person who called me low skilled and pathetic."
He laughed. All throaty and good natured. "I'm sorry, did I hit a nerve?"
"Fuck you," I spat as I began to turn around.
"Just think about my offer," Yomi said, as I began to leave. "And before you go, can I at least have a name?" he asked, a bit too hopefully.
I don't know what compelled me to say it.
"Kurama. Youko Kurama if you want to get technical."
Yomi looked surprised as he tossed me the USB. "So you're the bastard everyone is buzzing about?" he asked.
"Why the hell did you give me this?"
"Take the USB and collect your reward from Shachi. That's the least I could do before I get to deal with him."
It was my turn to smile. "Ratting out your own business partner. You're one evil man."
"I try," he chuckled. "And I must say.. I didn't expect the legendary thief to be so young and..."
I found myself standing slightly at the balls of my feet, waiting to hear him finish.
"Well-formed," he said a bit after.
"Well-formed?" I repeated, barking out in laughter. "What is this? The 1950's? Is this your sad attempt at flirting old man?"
He only smiled and shook his head.
After I reaped the benefits from Shachi, I read the papers a couple of hours only to find that Shachi was found in an alleyway near 43 Street and Hayes. His death apparently a heart attack. I felt myself shiver. Who was Yomi? And how powerful could he be to cover up a murder so cleanly?
I stayed at a motel after the case. That's usually what I did after a case. Change my location. My line of work wasn't exactly a safe job, and I had more than my fair share of enemies, so I tried to lay low, and I was pretty good at it too. I only came out when I chose to. So you can imagine my surprise when I heard a powerful knock on my door.
My first instinct was to grab the half broken lamp stand and get ready for what was to come, my second one was to climb out of the bathroom window. I inched closer to the door to look at the peephole, lamp stand in tow, only to strike it down onto the floor with an irritated groan.
"How the hell did you find me?" I yelled after swinging the door open. It creaked loudly, almost on the verge of falling apart.
"I came to ask if you thought about my proposal yet," Yomi asked so nonchalantly that I wanted to slap him across the face. Two times this man fucking stepped on my pride. Twice. First was being caught inside Enma publishing. Second was finding me here. I built up my title as the best, and he just reduced me to a petty child whose tracks were easily traced.
"Answer my question first!" I demanded, pointing the end of the lamp post on the tip of his nose.
He held both his hands up in surrender. "Like I told you, I have eyes everywhere. If it makes you feel better, it wasn't exactly the easiest job."
A bit of my lost pride came back to me as I lowered my weapon. Reluctantly, I let him inside after checking if anyone else was outside with him.
"I don't know why you're even here. My answer is no," I stated adamantly. "I'm a more of a freelancer. I don't do well with authoritative figures."
"You interest me. That's why," he walked over to the ratty couch. It probably hasn't been washed for years, but he didn't mind as he threw his suit jacket next to him. "I've read up on you, you know."
"Oh yea?" I answered, a bit more alert this time. People who hire me usually know who I am. They knew who I stole from, who I killed, and sometimes, who I previously worked for. It wasn't surprising.
"You were bright. Graduated at the top of your class at Meiou High. You got a full ride to the University of Tokyo. Proposed Major, Botany. Age as of now, 21. Height, 5'11. Suddenly dropped out of high school at age 18 due to— "
"Okay! That's enough, I get it." I glared at him. No one. And I repeat no one knew who I was. They knew what I did and how good I was at it, but no one ever bothered to deeply look into my past. Not until now.
"I'm going to make this fairly quick to not take up anymore of your time. I want you to work for me, you're obviously more intelligent than many people take you for, and I'm willing to accept you as my subordinate," he said calmly.
"I told you, I don't kill just for any—"
"I don't want you as a hired killer Kurama, I want you to work under me at Enma publishing, as my assistant."
"And why the fuck would I do that?" I scoffed.
"I also did other background searches. Sakyo, Kaiki, Tarukane, Karasu, Uraurashima, Ichigaki. Any of those ring a bell?" he smirked when he saw me shrinking back a bit. "These are all the people who want you dead, and from your reaction you're aware of that. And I'm pretty sure that's why I couldn't get any cellphone numbers or addresses, or why I couldn't find anyone who knew you personally."
"What of it?" I tried to keep my voice leveled. I was in a fucking run down motel, weaponless, with a man who may have outsmarted me both physically and mentally.
"Aren't you tired of running away? Of scraping money each day just to make a living? What if I told you I could get them off your back. I could erase them, out pay them, do whatever it takes to get your names crossed out of their books. You wouldn't have to worry about that anymore."
I expected him to laugh it say it was a joke. "You're just some CEO, you cant do that."
"Now you and I both know that isn't true," his eyes traveled to the newspaper left on the table. Shachi's death on the front page. The paper still had traces of tomato soup from this morning.
"I don't know if I.. I don't think," I couldn't finish my sentence. Some of these men have been on my case for over two years, and many have been close to killing me.
"Say yes."
I forgot how the rest of that conversation went, but it ended up with me reporting to his office at 8:00 in the morning.
He told me to wear something nice. Seeing how I owned nothing nice, I came in with a navy blue hoodie and faded black jeans.
I had no idea why I was even here. Why I even wanted to be here. It was true, I was really fucking tired of hiding, but I liked doing what I was doing, and working for Yomi's company was against everything I said I would do.
I unceremoniously walked into his office, dropping my backpack on his floor. It was filled with a notebook, two pens (one of them wasn't working), and my .22 handgun, because fuck it. You always gotta play it safe. He clicked his tongue at my attire and I rolled my eyes.
"You should be lucky none of these have bloodstains on them," I retorted.
He just stared at me disapprovingly as he motioned for me to sit in small desk next to his.
"Oh goodie, I get the kiddie table," I said over enthusiastically.
"I'm gonna give things to do to test out how well you work. Once you've proven yourself and I trust you enough to play nice with others, I'll let you work in a regular cubicle."
"Even better," I stated dryly. He answered me by laying a stack of papers and a laptop in front of me, explaining what to do. I caught the hang of things in no time, and two hours in, I was already finished.
"You wanna give me the next batch?" I asked. The work was easy. Tedious, but easy. I kept asking myself if this is what I really wanted. Just a couple of days ago, I could have died a number of ways, but being here, doing normal work. It felt off.
"What do you mean the next batch?" Yomi asked, not bothering to look away from his work. He wore thick rimmed glasses that made him look much older, more experienced.
"I'm done." I replied. He tried not to look surprised as he actually was. But he bit his bottom lip after going through all my work and dialed something on his sleek black phone.
"Ruka, cancel whatever I have today. Reschedule them if you have to. Also, call Miyuki and tell her that we'll be over there by 1:00 p.m. No, it's not for me, it's for someone else," after a few seconds of listening, he nodded and ended the call.
"Get your things, we're heading out," he ordered. His words were just like everything about him. Crisp, precise, promising, with a hint of wonder.
. . . . .
He drove a 911 Turbo Porsche, barely a few months old. It was beautiful and I wanted to cry, to the point where I gingerly lowered myself down the leather interior, sinking into the feeling of pure luxury and new car smell.
He smirked at my reaction, revving the engine to tease me. It rode smoothly and I found myself fiddling with the stations and knobs. I almost pouted when he parked. He was in front of an isolated building situated in one of the most priciest parts of the city. I looked down at the streets, noticing that there was no homeless person in sight, no pieces of gum or dog shit or weeds. This is where people came to window shop, pretending that they can own the items that lie in these boutiques when in truth, a hairpin would cost half a limb and your soul.
The boutique we were in front of had the name Miyuki in dark gold lettering with the exterior being all black. This place looked expensive.
"Hey, where are we?" I asked.
"We're going to get you a suit. You can't work in my company looking like that," he stared at my toes up to my face, and I felt slightly insulted.
"Yea, well there's no way I could pay for this," I told him, reluctant to open the door.
"That's why I'm paying," he said smoothly. We were greeted by a gorgeous lady with long purple hair. She had a sultry smile and a feline walk as she slinked over towards Yomi.
"Yomi! Darling I haven't seen you in ages," she said over dramatically. She batted her eyes and giggled in a coquettish manner as he kissed her hand. "And who's your little friend here? He as a great form." her eyes twinkled as she scanned my body.
"I came here for him. He needs suits, good ones."
"Oh honey, please don't tell me that you came into Enma Publishing wearing that!" she gasped. At that moment, I felt as if I was transported into a movie set for Pretty Woman. She whisked me onto a shallow platform as she took out her yellow measuring tape. I tried on various outfits, each of them costing more than a months rent for my old apartment. After Miyuki picked out what was suited for me, I left the shop leaving with over three different suits. Yomi paid for it all without batting an eye.
We ate out after, something not too fancy yet far from casual. We sat where the view was best, overlooking the waters that crashed upon the rocks. I couldn't pronounce half of what was on the menu and the other half I didn't understand. He ordered for me, the menu being expensive because they didn't have the prices on the side. He did small talk, watching me for the most part.
"Why are you doing this," I said, biting into my Tres Leches cake.
"I see something in you. And I want to take full credit in knowing that I saw it first," he kept it at that, slicing his steak in precise motions.
I felt uncomfortable, yet I wasn't willing to stop the way he was treating me. I figured that he wanted to do this, he was a big shot CEO with tons of money to spend, and when you could invest your money into something worthwhile, wouldn't you? I didn't mind being his little project, not with all the benefits I was receiving.
I don't know when my life decided to pull a complete 180, but it was somewhere after I met Yomi. No one bothered me in the few weeks I have been working there, and he promised no one would ever. I saw everyone who was out to get me either fall, or agree to Yomi's conditions. He did a lot to keep them quiet, and pulled even more strings to get my name cleared in a number of places. For the past few nights I've had the best worry free sleep I've had in a while, and even though the motel smelled like moth balls and the walls were near dilapidated, I couldn't help feeling secure.
In return I worked hard, rarely argued, and even found a couple of errors and accounts of fraud in the system. During these occasions, Yomi would give me a small smirk, just a little something to make me feel a bit special. I decided that I liked it, being weirded out at how different I was becoming and my willingness to follow someone else's path. It was nice aiming for something, to have a goal, to be acknowledged for it.
He would always be polite, proper, like I never tried to kill him in his office. He treated me like a human being, not a tool, not a toy, and I wasn't used to it at the slightest. Sometimes he'd take me to lunch or to dinner or asked me about files, and every time I'd be on the edge of my seat. He wanted nothing from me, people always wanted more from me. It wasn't bad, cause I'd receive as much as I would give, but I wasn't used to people throwing things at me so casually without expecting anything in return.
For a moment I thought this was all a well thought out ruse to get in my pants, it's happened before. I turned my first trick when I was 19 and having sex for resources was nothing new to me. It left me wondering if he was to shy to ask me to do something for him, or if he would drag things out long enough for me to finally break.
"I'll give you a ride home," he said as I climbed into his Porsche. Work was long and drawn out and I was just glad I could get a ride back to the motel instead of taking godawful public transportation. Something was off with him today, and his words seemed heavy, like they were hiding something. He took me to this large concrete building where you had to swipe a card to get in. It wasn't very far from the company, so I assumed he wanted to make a stop before taking me back to the current motel I chose to stay at.
We rode the elevator in silence, he had a comfortable yet excited smile on his face, something I wasn't quite used to seeing. The room he went into looked.. new to say the least. It was nice, very livable, it had a lot of space and cream colored carpets with a nice kitchen and an island in the middle. It was a bachelor's wet dream. At first I thought it was Yomi's place, but he looked like a man with finer taste, he'd go for something bigger, something more grand.
That's when I noticed all the boxes on the ground, and my signature purple back pack that I carried everywhere.
"What is my backpack doing here...?" I asked, as I stared at the damn thing.
"This is where you'll live from now on. I bought it for you," he said simply. Just that. He bought me a fucking apartment room and acted like he gave me his leftovers from lunch.
I stared at him, not even having the courtesy of glaring. I just walked out, pressing the down button of the elevator as I waited for the damn thing to arrive. If I spent anymore time in that room, there would be blood shed.
"Did I offend you?" he asked, more casually than I'd like him to. As if he knew I'd react like this.
"I don't know what you're trying to pull here or what you're expecting from me, but whatever it is I'm not going to do it," I said flatly.
"I'm not expecting you to do anything—
"That's the fucking point! I'm not your charity case and I can handle myself just fine!" My voice echoed throughout the empty hallway, the only other sound being the little ting of the elevator to show it arrived.
"I know you can handle yourself just fine."
"Then why are you doing all this for me."
The elevator door opened and I quickly booked it inside, only to have Yomi go in there with me. He cornered me, pushing me until I felt the cool wall on the back of my head. He placed both hands next to my face and learned in close. For a quick second I thought he was going to kiss me. And in that second, I might have wanted him to.
"There is something in you that you are wasting away, and I won't allow that to happen. I believe in you and I will do whatever I can to make yourself believe that to."
The elevator door opened to the front lobby, I swallowed hard, and without a word, I pressed the close button and waited for it to return me to my new home.
(A/N: Sorry, it's not what you wanted, but Yomi's back story was important. I don't want my characters to be two dimensional and Yomi isn't an exception to that rule. Okay I PROMISE something will happen in the next chapter and you wont have to wait long for it! Since I kind of have it planned out. Kind of...)
I shouldn't be writing fanfiction. I should be going to class. LOLOLOL WHAT IS PRIORITIES?!
Kobane: You'll find out soon enough with Kuronue. I try to make all the characters have a reason for their motives. Also, your comments are lovely, thank you for taking the time to express your thoughts :) (this applies to all the reviewers as well)