Chapter 6

"Fine. But don't come crying to me when they feed you to the dogs."

October 13th, 1922.

Friday.

4:30 pm.

Perhaps she was thinking too hard. They meant nothing, right? Surely. Those words, they were just a hallow threat. Or maybe an insult. She hadn't really seemed to be one who possessed the best insults. Maybe it was her own way of saying "Go to hell." A cryptic chill ran through her chest. No. That couldn't be it. It was something else. Something else entirely.

Cars putted along the paved street, people going home for the evening. Work had let out. It was quitting time. Men with soot covering their faces, or oil drenching their clothes walked down the side walks, talking to each other about the games, or other such trifles. Everything was moving all around her. The wind blew a chilly breeze that passed through her threadbare clothes. Her face was flushed, her nose a little rosy. Quietly, she pulled her hat down further to cover her eyes. He would recognize her. Hell. Anyone could recognize her. She liked to pretend like she was invisible, though. Over all, it seemed to be working quite well.

Another gust. Withered, brown leaves scrapped across the ground, the smell of autumn being released as a result. It was crisp. Brisk. Wonderful. Refreshing. She loved it when the trees were nothing more than skeletons. She loved the turning and falling leaves. She loved the colors. It was like a splash of life. Even better than spring. Haruka took a deep breath, her shoulder gently hitting the side of a tree.

The corner of Miller's. 1st Ave and Baker St.

Okay, so, she was a little early. But she really didn't want to make Charles wait. For some reason, she had the sneaky suspicion that if she did, he wouldn't idle for her to show up. Nope. She would have to find her own way there. And that would certainly be a sight to see. She didn't mind waiting. Not for something like this. Her muscles tensed, her adrenaline beginning to peak, but it was still early in the evening. In fact, the sun was just now setting. Her emerald eyes flicked up. The sky was on fire. And it was for her. She could see the flames licking up, consuming all that got in its path. It was violent. Angry. Yet warm and comforting at the same time. Beautiful. That's what it was.

In the distance, a deep chime signaled the turn of the hour. So she really had been spacing off for that long. The young woman looked down, smoothing out her coat and pulling her hat a bit further down on her forehead. It was cold. And the head is where the most heat, generally, escapes from. She was not interested in becoming a popsicle. She took another deep breath. All she had to do was wait. Wait and beat the ever loving snot out of someone. That's all. Piece of cake. Simple as pie. Yeah. She could do this.

"…when they feed you to the dogs."

She certainly had stormed off. What did she care. Hmph. That girl was nothing but trouble. All she accomplished in life was mastery of the violin as well as mastery of being dominated. Her personality was as flat as a pancake, and her looks? Her looks! Well. Uh. Her looks…Okay. So, Haruka had nothing to say about her looks. Nothing bad. But she still had a rather terrible personality. Clingy girl. Classy. Sophisticated. Polite. Charming. Beauti—Hey. No. Terrible personality. A grim scowl tugged at the young woman's lips as she thought, her arms crossed in front of her chest. She frightened people, sometimes.

But really. What was that girls' problem? Women were such a mystery. Even if she was one.

"…feed you to the dogs."

It made her uncomfortable. All she could think about were those rooms. The rows and rows of heavy steel doors. What lay beyond those hinges? She wasn't sure she wanted to find out.

The screech of brakes shook her from her thoughts, her eyes falling upon that lovely car. She could feel her mouth beginning to work. Really. Haruka really wanted to drool all over it. To touch and feel it purr beneath her fingers. To press that pedal and make it go. It would be bliss. Absolute and total harmony. Maybe he would let her, someday. If she did really well and continued to get him his money. He might let her drive it. Mischief sparked. A goal was now in mind. Girls? Money? What did they matter (well, to her own personal desires, that is)? Cars? Ooooh. She could babble about them for hours.

"I believe it's time for us to depart, young sir." His voice was wizened, posh and elegant. Everything that you would expect from a chauffer. In fact, he would have been the perfect Jeeves. Save for the lack of the name. Oh well. Haruka nodded her head, acknowledging him as she stepped inside of the vehicle and taking her seat. It still smelled heavily of tobacco, but it was a little less invasive. Probably because Mr. White wasn't here, lighting up a cigar or cigarette, which in succession would fill up the entire cab of the car. Regardless, the ride was a lot more relaxing and enjoyable this time around.

No creeps hanging off of her. No talk of money. Just the landscape. The purr of the engine. And her thoughts.

"…dogs."

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"What do you mean some of it was bad?" His voice was urgent, angry and soft.

"Some of it was damaged in the process."

"Well, who the hell was authorized to move it?"

"We're still trying to find that out."

"That's not good enough!" His voice spiked to a yell, his fingers suddenly pressing into her biceps. He gripped her hard, pulling her close to him, his nose brushing against hers. Venom shot a trail through his iris, a small vein beginning to throb lightly upon his forehead. She looked to the side, her face blank from any expression at all. Better to show nothing than to show something unladylike. She could hear his teeth grinding, could feel his muscles shaking with the strain. He was breathing down her neck. He was pulling her closer.

"How damaged?" he finally asked. Frustration and anger were still in his eyes.

"A few broken limbs," she replied back, her voice soft and shaking just in the slightest. She should have been used to his violent outbursts by now. Especially about something so important. He was not pleased with the answer. She felt herself being tossed aside immediately after his grip tightened upon her arms. Her body fell heavily against the wall. Fortunately, she was not hurt. Taking a small breath, she composed herself and turned to face him once again. A polite smile was once again placed upon her lips. It was the furthest from the truth.

"A few broken limbs, Michiru? A few broken limbs?" She nodded her head, though she knew it was a rhetorical question. He began to advance again, his dark eyes seething. The muscle upon his jaw jumped, his face beginning to turn red. "What price do you think a few broken limbs are going to fetch?" He waited for her to answer. All he got was a stammered, yet whispered "W-well…" before he interjected again, his hands upon her shoulders, pushing her roughly back into the wall. "They're fucking worthless, with a few broken limbs, Michiru! FUCKING WORTHLESS." Yelling now, he slammed her into the wall again. She closed her eyes, her own hands balling just a little. Yeah. But it wasn't her fault. None of this was her fault. She hadn't been there. In fact, if she had, then none of this would have happened. Everything would still be intact.

"The situation is being handled as we speak," she said, trying to make amends.

"There shouldn't be a situation to begin with, Michiru! You, should have seen to that!" Her own anger was beginning to flare. How was this her fault? He had asked her to come in early to help him with some paper work. There was so much and he couldn't possibly do it all on his own. If it was anyone's fault, it was his own. She couldn't say that, though. Not to him. Not ever.

"I apologize for the inconvenience. If you permit it, I can send Holds out to make an emergency placement. We can repair the other product in the mean time, and use the replacement in its stead," she suggested. It felt wrong. But this was procedure.

"What happens if we lose it? Then what? Another two thousand down the drain?" She didn't know what to say to that. Her sapphire eyes dropped, ashamed. Almost, she bit her lip, but she caught herself before she could. No. She wouldn't do that. She had to think logically. Business like. What was going to be good for the company. What did the buyers want?

"You told me that it wouldn't happen again, doll."

"Sir, we can fix this problem, here and n--"

"HOW?! HOW can you FIX this right NOW, Michiru?" She shouldn't have to deal with this. It was going to make her hair turn grey prematurely. He was such a stressor. Such a child. A small sigh slipped through her lips as she straightened his tie and smoothed the collar of his ivory suit.

"If you do not wish to rely upon Holds, we'll have potential sellers here. Tonight." Something sparked in his eyes at the thought. Of course. Why hadn't he thought of it? His mood was almost forgotten when he remembered something quite vital. A dark shroud began to take over his features. A scary, black veil of absolute anger. There was no quelling the fire. Not yet. The storm was just beginning. She winced a little when she felt his finger nails begin to bite into her flesh, bruises already beginning to develop beneath his strong palms.

"You lost me another sale. Do you think you can just talk your way out of the consequences?" Her eyes fluttered closed. She had to take it. "Sales are what make a business work. When one is broken, then a small, tiny chain of the company is broken. You aren't trying to ruin us, are you?" She didn't want to look at him. Her heart beat madly in her chest as she shook her head. She could hardly breathe. Everything was being constricted. It was only a matter of time before he released her right shoulder and—

A sudden knock upon the door made her jump. All too quickly, the man pulled back from her, releasing her from his grip. Anger was still written all over his face, but he plastered a smile on his lips. He was aggravated. She was saved. For at least another few seconds. But no one was every truly saved. This would continue later. Be it two minutes, five hours, or thirty seconds. This discussion wasn't over. Not for a long shot.

"Come in."

The door swung open, the tall, slightly aged driver standing in front of the slender young scrapper. Michiru relaxed a little, a nervous bead of sweat snaking its way down her spine as she smoothed her black dress out. It hurt to move. It hurt to breathe. But she was still alive. He hadn't quite decapitated her. Not yet. So, he was being her hero even indirectly. How odd. She crossed the room to stand behind the man's desk, peering down at some of the paper work that he had been working on previously. She wouldn't look at him. He was an irritating hot head that didn't seem to care for anyone but himself. He was a jerk. And quite frankly, she did not enjoy his company. Not after the way he had treated her.

"Ah! My boy! Come in come in! Sit down!" He said, his arms open wide as he moved passed his driver and slung an arm around his new found champion. She almost wanted to roll her eyes. Almost. But she didn't. Instead, she remained fixated upon the papers. Speak only if spoken to. That's the game she would play. "Thank you Charles." He was dismissed, just like that. The door closed behind him. And it was just the three of them in that room. Great.

"It's great to see you're upholding your end of the contract," he said, a smile lighting his features. What a faker. Maybe that's where she learned it from. The young man grunted in reply. Okay, so maybe he wasn't nice to everyone. Just anyone he thought he could get into bed with. Her fingers thumbed through each contract. Each sale. It was very professional. Very.

"Oh her?" The young man hadn't said anything. She knew that. Perhaps he was looking at her. Glaring at her, maybe. She felt his eyes burning into her skin. Obligated, she looked up and smiled. But not at Haruka. No. At Mr. White, instead. Maybe if she charmed her way back into his good graces…

"I don't believe you've met this lovely lady yet, have you, son?" There was still no answer. She knew as well as he did that that was untrue. Further from the truth than her blaringly fake smile.

She nodded her head, her locks bouncing lightly around her face as she did so. She wouldn't say anything. Well. Nothing more than was necessary. It was bound to get her into more trouble than what it was worth. She saw the displeased look upon Mr. White's face, unfortunately. She knew what he was going to do. Straightening up, the young woman crossed the distance between herself and the out stretched arm of the older man. She nodded her head to Haruka, who in return just stared. A frosty. Bitter. Stare.

"Champ, meet Michiru. Only the prettiest, finest, most graceful piece of woman to ever walk these floors." She nodded her head once again, pretending as if she was being modest. Which, in truth, she was modest, but…

"Ru, baby, this is Tim--"

"Haru!"

"—Haru, my next big winner. Isn't he charming?" Her lip twitched a little at the question. Charming? Anything but.

"Coming around to play again, huh, kitty kitty?" The jib was subtle, the scoff almost non existent. But left in the blows wake was a polite, seemingly innocent remark. And she knew it made his blood boil. She could see the way it filled his eyes. Tension sparked in the air. She wasn't going to back down. She hadn't done anything wrong, after all. That polite smile stayed firmly upon her lips. Inside, she was glad that she could make him squirm. For the grief that he had given her. This was his just desserts.

"Well, aren't you playful tonight?" Mr. White broke the awkward silence, his hand coming down hard onto Michiru's shoulder. Her eyes widened for a split second, pain shooting and screaming through her at the touch. The bruise would be bad. It's a good thing she had a jacket to throw over her shoulders. She didn't want anyone to become suspicious. Looking towards the door, then at the clock that was placed right above it, she moved away from Mr. White.

"If you gentlemen would excuse me." Humbly, quietly, the violinist nodded her head to each of them. It was about time for everything. The monotony would commence. How wonderful. Without making her welcome overstayed, Michiru made her way to the door, looking over her shoulder one last time to exchange a look with Mr. White. He was still angry. And she knew what that expression meant. They would deal with this later. Later. Great.

Feverishly, she wished that this night would never end. That she could just sit in her box forever and never have to see him again.

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"Don't mind her, she's a busy girl." Yeah. Busy getting herself into bad situations. Haruka rolled her eyes, her arms crossing in front of her chest. She didn't even watch the girl leave. She didn't acknowledge her presence. As far as she was concerned, that girl, what was her name? Michiru. She was about as important as the fly that was buzzing around in the room. Haughtily, the young woman took her hat off of her head, racked her fingers through her hair, then replaced the hat, her eyes closing.

"I know you'll do great out there, spit! Just don't lose focus. It's you or him." He was rubbing her shoulder as he spoke. It was as if he was in his own little world. He was such a weird man. In fact, now that she thought of it, she didn't actually know his name. Huh. Funny how that works. Oh well. So long as she got her money at the end of the night, she didn't care if his name was Captain Kangaroo. He moved away from her. Thank God. Assuming she was dismissed, Haruka began to walk towards the door. But before she could do a full turn, a paper was thrust beneath her nose. She looked at it. Confused, just in the slightest, she took it, then looked at the man beside her.

"It's the bouts. See, assuming you make it far, you'll be going four, maybe five times tonight. Just think of the money, man. That should be enough incentive." Something wasn't right with this. She stared at it. It was like a small tournament. Did they do this every week? She quirked a questioning eyebrow, but before she could ask, he was pushing her out the door. He was such an odd man. It was like he had ADD or something. His attention could never be caught by one thing for too long before it leapt and jumped to the next.

"Hurry, lad! Or else you're going to be late!" She stumbled out the door, catching herself upon the railing before she looked back at the already entrance. Shaking her head, she shrugged her shoulders. He wasn't good company anyways. In fact, she disliked him more than the violinist. And that was saying something. Now…maybe she wasn't all bad. That musician. The thought crossed her mind for a split second before she dismissed it. No. Never in a million years.

The crowd was beginning to pour in, the rich moving up into the catwalks to sit in their boxes, the average working man either sitting in the benches that encompassed the pit, or meandering about. The girls were already out, working their magic upon the horn dogs that passed through the thresholds, the band already in full swing. It was coming to life. This night club. Where everyone met to gamble their lives away. To drink contraband alcohol. To gawk at the women. A small smirk pulled at the corner of her mouth as she made her way down the stairs.

She was handsome. A lot handsomer than the average joe. She was sure that she could get one of these girls if she really tried. But who knew what sort of crazy infections or disease they were ridden with. Probably nothing worse than the rabies that infected those of her kind. Those slum dogs. Rubbing her face a little, she let those emerald eyes dance for a second upon one. Tall. Slender. Sultry. She could just reach out and take her. She was beautiful, yeah. Fun game. Their eyes locked for a split second before the young fighter thrust her hands in her pockets and made her way towards the door. She had traveled this way twice, but she already felt like she knew it. The quiet corridor that lead down. Down down down.

Her footsteps echoed against the bare, stone walls, the air getting cooler the further she moved. Finally, she was in that long corridor of doors. It was almost as if she could hear the screech of rust. She could hear the whispers behind those sound tight sheets. She could feel the cool fingers dragging down her spine. It was not a very happy place. And she definitely was not too intent upon staying there. Alone it was worse. You could hear the howls. She quickened her pace, standing outside of the door that would lead to her place of work. No sense in getting her hat or coat torn. Stripping of her warm layers, she put them in the corner, out of the way. No one was going to make off with her clothes. She was sure of it. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes. Unconsciously, she tied that white cloth around her knuckles again. Her heart pumped. Her muscles tensed. It was all or nothing.

She could do this.

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"Welcome back, ladies and gents! It seems as thought tonight will be a night to remember!" She spoke into the mic, her posture ram rod straight, her hands lightly gripping the base of the instrument. Another night. Another week. Another day in which she had to dread. Just get it done and over with. Quick. Like a bandaid. Her stomach flipped a little. Tonight she'd have to tell him to. All of the fire and anger that had burned inside of her had been chilled by that one thought. But she couldn't let her voice waver.

The cries of the crowd echoed through out the establishment, a small smile gracing her lips. They were so excited. They always were. Humans had this blood lust built into them. They wanted to see people fight. They loved the thrill, the gamble. But they knew that no harm actually came to themselves. It was just a way to let out all of your anger without actually having to raise a hand against someone else. Granted, she knew that a lot of fights did break out in the stands over bets and winnings. Happened all the time.

"Outside it's cold, but in here it's about to get hot hot hot! Turn down the furnace boys, because I can already feel it warming up!" Her voice was light. It had to be. If the announcer was in bad spirits, then the crowd was in bad spirits. And as a result, there would be less money. Less money meant loss of sale. And well. Loss of sale…that didn't turn out so good. Her shoulders ached slightly at the thought.

"Well, look who it is, fellas! It appears as though that young stray is out for first blood! Come on, young cat, get out of your gate!" The white door opened and out he stepped. He looked calm. Collected. He wasn't a show boater. She liked that about him. Or maybe he was just arrogant. Well. He was arrogant. She could tell by the way he held himself. The way he addressed everyone around him. He thought he was better. But he had nothing? How ironic.

"Don't he look cute? Aww." The entire crowd joined in awing with her. She was doing it just to aggravate him. From where she was sitting, however, she couldn't quite tell if it worked or not. What did it matter. The black door shook a little, the plank flying open, a shorter, yet still beefy, man jumping out of the threshold. He smiled up at the crowd, pumping his muscles and roaring a battle cry. She rolled her eyes.

"It appears as though we have an impatient opponent, gents! But here he is, out of the black door, it's Mason! Lookit those muscles pump. He loves you and we love him, ain't that right?" She looked down at the handsome cat. It was in this moment that she wanted to push him back through those doors. It's always better to run away than to meet something like this straight on. He didn't know what was coming. Either he would get hit by a train, or he would be hitting someone else with said train.

"TO THE MIDDLE GENTLEMEN!" She cried over the mic, her voice shaking the stands. The gambling was well underway. Ten on the new guy, thirty on Mason. There was no way a little guy like that could win. Bull was just a fluke. A bit of luck. But still, there were a few willing to take the gamble. The two fighters approached each other.

"Here we go! Tension is sparking between them, can't you just see it? It's flying all over the place as they circle. You know, nothing is going to be won if you keep doing that gents, lunge, attack, bite, kick! Throw your stratagems out the window and go for the gol—OH! Finally! Mason has lost his patience and has thrown a nice hook at the cat. Too bad for him, it appears as though he missed the first fight. This little sucker is slicker than snot. Again! He's thrown another punch, and this cat is not missing a beat. Is he going for anoth—NO! With a feign, Mason has caught the cat off guard with a swift kick. Sweeping him off of his feet, the cat is now under that man of a Mason. He pulls back and delivers blow after blow to that strays face. Poor cat, already out for the count?" Her heart hammered in her chest. It hadn't even been a minute and he was already on the ground getting the snot beat out of him. The crowd was yelling, but they weren't exactly excited. A fight like this, a one sided fight, it wasn't that thrilling. They wanted the close ones. She bit her lip for a moment before she started speaking again.

"What's happened? Mason is struggling, is he still pummeling the poor scrapper? His shoulder. It's jerking. What? He's just been…With a feat of strength, the cat has flung Mason over his head, rolling him off. The cat is now up, brushing his hand on his shirt. Wait. There's not a speck of blood on his face? Amazing!" How could that be? She could have sworn that she saw Mason come back and punch his face several times. Then again…all she could see was the jerking of his arms.

"Mason looks worse for wear, there's blood pooling out of his right eye, which appears to be swollen. That cat sure does have a nasty scratch. OH! THERE HE GOES. The scrapper has just lunged at Mason. His fingers are tangled up in that greasy mop that Mason calls hair! His leg is coming up! AGAIN AND AGAIN! A knee right to the stomach! How can Mason take this?" She relaxed a little. The crowd screamed and yelled more violently now. YOU BETTER NOT LOSE, MASON! Or GET HIM SCRAPPER! Her window vibrated just in the slightest. This was nothing. Not yet. Sometimes, it was deafening.

"LOOKIT THAT, FOLKS! The scrapper has taken Mason's head and is ramming it into his knee! Will this be it? Can this be it? Mason! Going down without so much as a single—WAIT! The scrapper is stumbling back, gripping his knee. What's wrong with him? Blood has started to stain his pants. He must have bit him. Mason is still in it folks. The scrapper backs off. He does not look happy, does he?" She didn't like how this match was playing with her heart. It was like a bad relationship. However, she really hoped that it didn't end like one.

"Mason makes a cut to the right, followed by a jab to the left. He's circling, trying to confuse the poor kitty. Didn't your mother ever tell you? It's curiosity that killed the cat!" A small wave of chuckles drafted through the window. "Another cut, another jab, but no gain. The cat doesn't seem to be slowing. Mason can't seem to hit the broad side of a barn today, gents! WHAT WAS THAT?! Mason is suddenly flat on his back and that cat, he's on him! Pummeling, for sure this time! Did you just see that tooth fly? The cat is going wild! I think this is the end, folks! I think that this cat is almo…YES! WHY YES! What does that cat have? He has it! The white! He has the white! Mason can't even lift his arms! Look at that!" Her stomach twisted as she looked down at the pit.

"Mr. Kitty Cat. I think it's about time to send that dog to the slaughts!" The crowd echoed the saying in unison. It shook her window, now. The yells. The cheers. She looked down at the young cat, he looked up and around. He was confused. What did that mean? Oh no. No one had told him. He really didn't know. Her door suddenly opened, which caused her to jump. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Mr. White. He looked hopeless.

Quickly, he crossed the distance and squeezed his way in front of the mic.

"Take what you've earned, son! Take that life."

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AN: Hahahaaaaaaaaa. I really liked this chapter. It was a lot of fun to write. And in fact, I think it sort of posed even MORE questions and added a bit of "Oh my god, what the hell?!" For sure. And I guess this was sort of ambiguous. But if you have any questions, feel free to drop me a line, as usual. And. Yeah. I'm feeling much better, like I'm happy. The only thing that sucks is that Assassin's Creed is getting mind blowingly redundant, therefore it's like pulling teeth to finish the last assassination. And I refuse to start Bioshock until I beat that game. ._. I know. Anyways, that's basically been my life. I'm sorry for the delayed update. Saturday, wasn't letting me sign in at all and yesterday, my sister was over, so I didn't have any time really to sit down and write. Besides that, I needed my wall. So, without further ado, I go on to replies:

T. - I have to have a schedule to update by. If I don't, it doesn't get done. I'm a procrastinator and have a slight hint of OCD (undiagnosed of course), so as a result, I really need to have a strict time line to follow. It's a good thing someone is keeping me to it. Hahhaa. Okay, on to your questions: You'll find out. I'm glad you're asking and thinking of those things, however. It means I'm doing what I planned on. Hahaha. PS: I did see The Ugly Truth. Hilarious. I'm so glad I didn't go with family, though. That would have been bad.

Haruka Tenou Distant Sky King - I can't tell you when Michiru will find out that Haruka is a girl. But I can answer your other question. As of right now, I'm still undecided on if I should bring in any other senshi. I'll have to consult my wall and see what she thinks. I might be able to bring them in, but they would merely be used as tools. Mako would do the same thing, yes, but in this time, she would definitely be under different living conditions than Haruka. So, we'll see.

Petiyaka - All in good time. All in good time. Hahaha. Meaning that I'm still deciding. Lawl.

Swinging Cloud - In your speculations, because I know you don't read my story any more, not ever, even if there was a fire, I appreciate your enthusiasm. Even though you don't read my story. Ever. I mean. Hi. I'll talk to you later. Hahhaa.

THANK YOU to everyone else that reviewed. I do read each and everyone one of them and take them to heart. I appreciate all of the support and happy, kind words. I heart you guys. Thanks for reading. If you have any questions, feel free to drop me a line. I'd be happy to answer. Heart.

Well, that's it for tonight. I'm getting sort of cramped up, so if I sit any longer, I might go nuts. I'll see you guys next week. Hopefully on Saturday, this time. Haha.

Till next time!