Chapter 9

"I never said I wasn't." The nonchalant shrug. A sideways glance.

She never…Michiru watched her in shock. Her mouth almost dropped down when she heard those careless words. It was as if it was no big deal to her. Like this was a common every day occurrence. Well. Maybe it was. She could just see the young scrapper picking up a woman, taking her home and then having this entire conversation. It was almost comical. Yes. For a whole one night stand, perhaps, but not for something like this. A muscle leapt on her jaw as she leaned just a little closer. She could feel the young woman's breath tickling her neck. A shiver spidered down her spine.

"You can't just let people assu--"

"Let them assume! What do I care? What difference does it make?" Her voice was steely, cool. Like ice. Michiru gave a small start. Those eyes seemed to be as hard as the stone that they were cut out of.

"It makes all the difference in the world!" She fired back. Her breath was ragged, coming in short, shaken heaves. It felt as though her heart was attempting to leap from her chest, as though all the blood in her body had suddenly been drained down to her feet. Head spinning, the young violinist leaned in a little closer. The fighter, she smelled. Not a bad smell. Blood. Sweat. Dirt. An enthralling musk. Her eyes locked with the blondes. But there was nothing there. It was dull. Empty. As if she was on auto pilot. Perhaps she was. There was always a sense of duty, a cornered obligation. And it was all her fault. Michiru felt as though a sandbag had just been dropped on her chest. Tight. Constricted.

But what was she? She couldn't tell. Her emotions were running away with her, and she didn't know how to reign them back in to check. That husky voice startled her. The harsh edge cut through her like a knife. But. What had she said? The violinist gave a small, quizzical look. She didn't want to ask the young woman to repeat herself. However…

"No." Oh. That's what she had said. Michiru guessed that she had picked up on her confusion and was kind enough to repeat. How thoughtful. "I'm as good as any man. Better, even. My gender is of no concern to anyone but myself. Let them think what they want to think!" She made a motion with her hand towards the door only a few steps up from the landing. Fury boiled in her eyes, her body closing the little distance that was between their faces. Her nose brushed against the violinists as she spoke, her words vehement. Angry. Defensive. It was as if she thought the world was against her. Maybe it was. "If they're too pigheaded to bet on a woman, then damn them to hell. They're all worthless slugs anyways. I don't do this for those sweat covered mongrels. I don't do this for Mr. White." Michiru gave her a curious glance at the name. But she was already moving on. "I don't do this for the entertainment or the girls, alcohol, or pleasure! I do this for me and me alone, so don't go preaching to the choir that ain't listening, sweetheart." Haru, well. Ruka. No. Haruka. Yes. That must have been her full name. True, given name. No mix or match between. Regardless, Haruka tried to shoulder her way past the young violinist, but Michiru would have none of it. Quickly, she moved to block the scrappers way, her eyes lit with her own anger. This woman! She spoke as if she knew what was happening here. But she didn't. This cat, all she knew was the pit. How to throw a punch. She didn't know the half of it. And her ignorance was infuriating. Oh God. How much she really didn't know.

"I'm not preaching to any one. I know a hopeless case when I see it. But you don't know anything, Haruka!" The blonde jerked her head back a little, her eyes flashing with bafflement for a split second. Had she just. Yes. Michiru tapped the young woman's shoulder with her finger as she spoke, her eyebrows knit. "You don't know what you've done. What you've gotten yourself into! You know nothing. I tried to shove you out that door so many times, only to be defeated by my sense of loyalty to the man that brought you home. You were like a lost puppy! And just like a puppy, eventually you're going to grow old. HE will get bored of you. HE will put you down. Or, rather. He'll send you to the slaughts. Do you even realize what that means? Do you know what you've done here?" Haruka sputtered a little, her lip trembling just a little.

She couldn't find her words. The fighters face was white, as if she had seen a ghost. Blood stained the skin beneath her nose, her lip was swollen and her eye was beginning to bruise, a little. Her knuckles were clenched, blood daring to poke out of the abrasions that littered those hands. Long slender fingers. Strong shoulders. They shook. The realization was beginning to hit. In fact, in all of her years there, Michiru had never seen a fighter more determined. Had never seen a man go down his first night and continually kill. On occasion, they would get a man who would kill maybe twice, but his "manager" (for that's what she liked to call them) would take pity and pull them out of the bouts and wait until the shock and guilt had left. Generally, they were okay by the next week. But this young woman. She had proven herself to either be a complete psychopath, emotionally dead to the world, or she just hadn't grasped the reality of the situation.

Until now.

"Let me recap for you, cat. You've killed five people. Five people tonight. How much is he giving you for this? Twenty a pop? He could just have someone hired to blow their brains out. Hell, he could do it himself. But he doesn't. This is more fun. Don't you see? Can't you see it? Why can't you see it!" Michiru felt her eyes misting over. It was heart breaking, the way the blonde stared at her. But she wouldn't cry. She didn't care about this young woman. No more than the next fighter. She didn't. She…really. Didn't. She couldn't. There was no way. Then why are you down here doing this, right now? A broken voice shook her from her thoughts.

"W-well, what happens now? The jib is up. The secrets out. Cat's out of the bag. I guess I could always dance. Or will he take me out back and put a bullet through my skull, just like that poor Holds fella?" Her voice was cracking. Fear was pouring off of her shoulders. The dam was going to break, and Michiru could feel it. It was almost there. Wait. Holds was dead? She bit her lip at the newly found information. How problematic. He couldn't just wait like a patient man. Had to go out and throw a temper tantrum like the child he was. She would have to deal with this mess later.

"The jib? The cat? No, Ruka." It felt fitting to adopt the nickname, even if it did earn her another shocked look. She was only trying to help. Helping will get you into trouble, young lady. She shooed the thought from her mind. The blonde raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

"No one has ever killed before they got approval from m—the announcer." She held her breath. She had almost said "me." But the young woman either didn't notice, or didn't care. Either way, it worked to her own benefit. A shudder shook her body at the memory. Brutal. Blood lust. Perhaps the young woman remembered something completely different. But the sight that she displayed before the crowd had shocked them all into silence. It's true that she had snapped his neck. But. She hadn't just gotten up to leave. Her fists had continued to pummel into his face, even after he was dead. Over and over and over again. Teeth flew. Blood spattered the surrounding area. The mans nose, it had been completely caved. She had racked out his eye. Clawed at his throat. Completely mutilated him. Maybe she was a mentally unsound psychopath after all. "They didn't see you for what you truly are. I almost didn't, either. We were all looking at what was left of him. You know. The last man you had your way with. It took the crew a little longer than four minutes and twenty three seconds to mop up that mess." She wasn't going to go into any more detail than that.

"You mean a murderer? Sure they did. They watched it over…and over…" She looked down at her hands. Cuts. Blood. A piece of a tooth. She pulled it out. They were red and swollen. And they shook. Haruka could still feel his breath. All of their breath. They were breathing right down her neck, watching her. Always with her. They would never leave, not now. She was stuck with them, chained with the guilt. Michiru watched as she stared down at her palms. She watched as the cool, quiet, quick cat slid down the wall. A small lift and break in the silence made her look away. Fresh tears finally streaked from those emerald eyes to land in her hands. Michiru knew how it was. Gently, she placed a hand upon the other woman's shoulder as she knelt, her stomach twisting just a little.

"It's better that I found you first, rather than him, you know." It was just a mere fact. She didn't expect a reply, and she didn't get one. He probably would have killed the young scrapper for 'lying' to him. Michiru would make sure that didn't happen. Maybe this was her out! Maybe this was how she was going to push the blonde out the door. Push her back to where she came from. She was definitely better off there. But once you've killed, it gets easier. Just got to stay detached. Her shoulders shook, her fists suddenly clenching. Haruka yelled. A cry of sheer outrage. With all her might, the young woman slammed her fist into the ground, the cool slap echoing with her voice down the well. Maybe she should leave her alone. Michiru was seriously thinking about it. But, well, if he found her and they were alone, she was sure that there would be no more Haruka. Not even a little. She would be dead. Sent to the slaughts. Another victim. She imagined it stung. Hoping that it wasn't broken, the violinist looked down at the hand. It was still tightly clenched. The blood was beginning to dry. It would stain her skin, if she wasn't careful.

Those desperate, frightened emerald eyes suddenly locked with her own. A new resolve was lying in them. Lingering. Hidden. She wasn't doing this for herself. Michiru knew that. There was no way that she was living this way, just for herself. Selfless with a selfish front. That's how she was playing this game. She was very much in control, but her eyes were a little red from the few tears that she had shed. Briskly, the young woman pawed at her tears and took a deep breath. Closing her eyes, she rested her head against the wall. She swallowed. Michiru watched her throat move. Almost. She wanted to touch it. To feel it. Feel. Her? No. She shouldn't. Couldn't. A small blush threatened to creep along her neck and burn her face, but she beat it down. She was being ridiculous.

"I want my money." Haruka seemed to have a rather one track mind. Raising an eyebrow, the violinist stood. Space. Space was good. Clearing her throat, she nodded her head. Sure, she had earned it. The blonde stood, her face twisted into a grim scowl. But she was still handsome. Wonder how that works.

"I shall accompany you, then. There is some paper work in that office that needs some attending to. If you don't mind," she added as an after thought. A polite smile was placed along her lips again. The panic that she had felt before had dissipated. Why had she panicked exactly? Because Haruka was a woman. Woman. Not a man. And women weren't supposed to go down into the pit. It caused problems. Big problems. That generally involved a lot of money and damages. She didn't need to get yelled at again.

Why did she care. It was driving her nuts. And it was making her feel a little moody.

"Whatever. Don't get in my way." Back to her cold self. Haruka successfully shouldered her way around the violinist this time, her long legs carrying her quickly up the steps. Michiru followed, her eyes trained upon the woman's back. She was handsome. How did that work? What a confusing person. With her mask in check, the young woman followed the fighter out into the open crowd. They all parted when she walked by, their eyes wide, fear slowly circulating around the building. It was quiet. Well, quiet in the sense that no one was talking. They all just stared. Never before. The band still played. But besides the constant breathing, that was the only sound. Haruka didn't seem to care.

But Michiru. She did.

It was unsettling. Made her stomach turn. Holding her breath, it felt like it took years for them to finally get to the stairs. Everyone was watching. Judging. Tension rippled between her shoulder blades. She felt like a condemned criminal. And she hadn't even done anything wrong. Ram rod straight, she continued to follow the blonde, her eyes never leaving her back. Uncomfortable. Awkward. Not fun. Don't show them you're afraid. They aren't even looking at you. They're more interested in the girl before you. Just don't think about it. She had to keep reminding herself. But the eyes. They were burning into her back. Michiru could almost feel them. Another shudder.

She felt her foot go up the first step. Papers rustled and a hand closed in around her wrist. Slightly startled, the young woman looked at her assailant. Von Toff. His deep eyes were serious, a grim expression upon his face. Slipping the papers into her grasp, he nodded her head. She knew what to do. There was no need for words. There was a mutual understanding. She gave him a small smile, mouthed thank you and made her way after the looming form of the other woman. She would have to go make the pick up. Thank God. She was saved. But. Holds. No. A lady doesn't dwell in the past. So she continued to climb.

The door swung open and in they went. It seemed that they were in this room often. Her shoulders burned a little at the memory. The bruises were quite prominent and it had only been a few hours. She clutched her jacket, her arms throbbing just a little. He was going to pull a gun this time. She knew it. Well. Pull the gun, again. He was so dramatic. Almost rolling her eyes, she moved deeper into the smoky room. The lighting was dark. Shadows danced along the walls. The smell of alcohol and cigars made her eyes burn. Oh. He was furious. He only smoked and drank at the same time when he was. Her stomach twisted.

A moth to flame. This was a bad combination. Her heart pumped madly, icy daggers dragging down her spine as the first words broke the deafening silence.

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"You lied to me."

Haruka squared up and puffed out her chest. She wanted to seem bigger than she actually was. She wasn't afraid of this man. She wasn't afraid of no one. Yes you are. Don't be stupid. She was invincible. Emotionless. Stop lying to yourself. Holding her breath, she shook her head and closed her eyes for a brief moment. The guilt almost took over again. She felt dirty. As if she had bathed in the blood of her opponents. Which…she probably looked like she had. His blood was still warm on her knuckles. It was a rather unsettling feeling. Well. It was rather unsettling to kill a man, let alone five. Where did the bodies go…huh.

"No I didn't." Her muscles tightened. She was ready for a fight. Mr. White was looking out his window, down at the pit. They were still cleaning up from her brutality. His head snapped around, veins popping beneath his skin. But a smile still touched upon his lips. Now HE. HE was the psychopath, here.

"You come in here, weaving your web of lies, pretending to be something you're NOT! Rob me of my hard earned cash and then tell me that you weren't lying?! Typical woman. Usurper! Wretch! Bitch! I should kill you right where you stand." He advanced towards her. But Haruka would not back down. Her own anger flared, a dark hint glancing in her eyes.

"You never asked! If you were a bit more observant, you would have noticed that 'Haruka' is a woman's name. But you were too distracted by your own personal floosie," she made a motion towards Michiru. What did she care. She didn't even know the woman. But. She did feel a little bad about her words. Maybe she would apologize later. Too late to take them back now. She continued. "and your inability to bed even the simplest of women to even think. This is a matter of your incompetence, not mine," she shot back. Locked in a death gaze with the man in white, Haruka didn't dare look when she heard the indignant sigh. She was hurt. Damn. Well. What's said is said. Maybe later. Maybe.

"You don't know who you're dealing with, girl!" Suddenly, Mr. White was in front of her, his hands on either of her shoulders and shoving her roughly back against the wall. There was no pain. But she did feel cool metal being pressed against the underside of her chin. He click of a hammer. Her heart suddenly stopped. No! She couldn't die, not now. She had come too far in this single night. This couldn't happen. But it was.

"Yeah, I do. A no good, dirty murderer!" She spat back, her face inches away from his own.

"You prying little leach! I should have left you in that alley to rot!"

"It would have been better than baking in this cesspool!"

"Your life is in my hands and you still dare to speak?" A movement behind the mans head caught her eye. Her gaze darted over his shoulder. Michiru was there, her hand gently tugging upon Mr. White's arm. She looked troubled. A crease was beginning in the middle of her forehead. She was worried. Didn't want to have another body to add to the masses that night. Her voice was quiet and calm. Maybe that's why he kept her around. She seemed to have a good head on her shoulders.

"Come, let's talk this out like adults. There's no need for that gun. Let's sit down, okay?" He jerked his arm, the barrel of the gun temporarily, yet still uncomfortably, jamming itself right into the soft side of her chin. Haruka winced just a little. But not long enough to miss his words.

"Michiru, get off of me! You've cause me enough trouble today!" She pulled on his arm again, even after his angry hiss. But this time, he moved with the momentum. His arm whipped around, the butt of the revolver clapping the young beauty right in the jaw. Mr. White turned to look at her, the barrel leveled right at the violinist. She had stumbled back with the blow, her hand now on her face. She stared, her eyes belying her calm exterior. She was petrified. Was this the first time he'd ever pointed a gun at her? Somehow, Haruka didn't think so.

"That ain't no way to treat a lady?" Now she felt bad for the girl. She was so much trouble, but she just couldn't stand by and let her get hurt. Especially after the display that had just been shown by the erratic and violent Mr. White. She sure was confused when it came to the violinist. Very very confused. What was her name? Michiru.

"Bitch ain't no lady." His eyes were huge, his hand shaking. She saw his grip tighten. Haruka's eyes widened. She didn't want the girl to die! What had she done. Only to try and calm him down. She grabbed for his wrist, wrenching it to the side. The shot rang out, a crack through the other wise silence. It shook her to the core. Made her stomach lurch. Smoke billowed from the barrel. Like a cigarette. Heart hammering, the young woman looked towards the startled violinist. A hole just next to her right foot. Her mouth was dry. Haruka looked at her. She was shaking. Visibly shaking. With one more wrench, she watched as the gun fell to the ground. Before he could do anything about it, she picked it up. Her jaw twitched. Fury boiled in her veins. Shooting a gun at a woman. How dare he.

SLAP. Blinking, Haruka looked up. Michiru had crossed the distance and her arm was still poised. Right across the face, a red mark was beginning to appear upon Mr. White's cheek. He looked shocked. Pulling himself out of the daze, he looked towards his assailant.

"You insufferable child. If you ever even dare to point a gun at me again, I will bring this company down faster than you can bat an eyelash. Now sit down and talk to your client before I make some devastating calls." No longer was she the soft spoken musician. Or the polite young lady. No. She looked hurt. Confused. Shaken. Angry. Mr. White could only nod his head and do as he was told. He knew that she could bring everything down. And he had no power to stop it. All he had was an abusive grip upon her. She knew everything. All of the inner workings. Without her, it would all fall into ruin. How could he have been so stupid?

Humbled, Haruka also sat down, her eyes wide. Wow. She was slightly frightening. But. Wow. So there was more to the girl than just a pretty face. She swallowed a little, her green eyes being met by Mr. White's darker ones. She nodded her head, but her scowl still remained in place.

"Now. You were in a position to see Haruka's true self, correct?" She turned to Mr. White and he nodded his head. Michiru then turned to Haruka, herself. "However, most of the crowd is still under the assumption that you are a man. So, I don't see why you can't continue your relationship in the same orderly, timely fashion. Problem. Solved." She turned back to Mr. White again. "You keep her. You let her fight. You uphold your end of the contract. End of story. Give this woman her earnings for the night."

"Y-y-yes Ru." He was obviously shaken. Haruka raised an eyebrow. Was this the first time she had ever stood up for herself? Well. Maybe it was the first time he'd ever actually fired a gun at her. She did seem rather upset. Before she could really do anything, a wad was deposited in her lap. Looking down, she saw the green. A small smirk secreted itself upon her lips. But she didn't want them to see. Her heart still hammered at the complete role reverse.

"I'm sure Ru is right. So long as you keep winning, scrapper, you're welcome in these walls." He had composed himself. His face was a little less red, but he was obviously embarrassed. Being showed up by a girl, no less. He was ashamed. For being so stupid.

"Don't make any more stupid accusations and I'll come back for more," She scoffed. Crossing her arms, she didn't feel like being nice to him. She didn't like him. In fact, she didn't even want to be in these walls. They made her skin crawl. Though, the music was good. And the alcohol did smell rather refreshing. And the girls. Mm. They were really nice. But not the blood. Not the inner workings. Not the pit. Not the gambling, yelling or cheering. It wasn't for her. But she had to do this.

Taking the fist full of cash, she shoved it deep into her pocket. Swallowing the lump that was beginning in her throat, she watched as Michiru leaned in close to Mr. White's ear. She said something, quick. His face changed into something indescribable. Hot breath trickled down her spine. Something prickled on her skin. Clenching her teeth, she could feel the blood beginning to pour from her knuckles. Her head throbbed. Her stomach twisted. A ring of murders. Didn't they even care? This wasn't life or death. This was all about the money. The fame. The glory. It wasn't even as if they were…desperate. Or maybe they were. She had to keep reminding herself that there were other people out there in situations worse off than her own.

"Charles should be waiting. Go. I'll see you next week." Mr. White was done. Dismissed. He didn't want her in his presence any more. He was still furious. But there was nothing to be done now. The verdict had been reached. Standing, the young fighter made her way out the door. But she was being shadowed by someone. Annoyed, she turned to look at the musician.

"What do you want now?" Her voice was snipped, cold. She just wanted to be left alone. Was that too much to ask? Apparently, so.

"I require Charles' assistance. I will accompany you up until your home." Fake. Fake smile. Fake happiness. This girl. She was miserable. Haruka could only roll her eyes and make her way towards the door, though. How could she refuse? This was, after all, her own company. Well. Sort of. She some how got the feeling that she was in partnership with Mr. White. Maybe it was a joined company? Which ever the case, Charles was HIS driver and it was out of the kindness of HIS heart that he took her home. So. She shrugged her shoulders.

What else was she supposed to do?

The night was still. Cool. That light still swayed in the wind. Slowly, she made her way towards the corner. Looking down the alley, nothing was there. Just a dark pool. Perhaps it was rain water? No. She knew better. It wasn't rain water. But there was no body. Where had it gone? Haruka bit her lip and heaved a small sigh. What a troubling place. Was she doing the right thing. Killing men? Right? No. Are you barking mad! Killing people isn't right! But she had to. It was the only way to get what she needed. Shaking her head, she continued to walk. Michiru didn't seem to make a sound. It was awkward. Tense. Should she say something? No. If she opened her mouth, she was sure to sound like a jerk.

So she decided on the other route instead. Held her breath. Count to four. And open the car door. She hadn't even realized that she was there. Standing. The click of the latch pulled her out of her thoughts. Wasn't Charles supposed to do this? No. That's fine. Door opened, she looked back at the violinist. A deep, purple mark was beginning to streak across her beautiful skin. A pang of guilt. Wow. Poor girl, she probably had to deal with Mr. White on a daily basis. Nodding her head, she motioned towards the inside of the car.

"Well. Are you going to get in, or are you just going to stand there?" Her voice was a little bit harsher than she had originally intended, but she didn't really fancy the rain that was falling. Being wet and cold was one thing if you had warm and dry clothes to change into, but a completely different thing when you didn't. The young musician looked taken aback. Yes. She was trying to be civil. Get over it. She almost just closed the door and said 'fine,' but when the girl flashed her a weak smile, she found that she couldn't.

A hand slid along her arm in a gesture of thanks. Suddenly, her skin was on fire. Her heart was hammering. She was dizzy. Blinking rapidly, once, she watched as that beauty was shielded by the rain. Frozen. What was that? Weird. Shaking her head, she looked up towards the sky and took a deep breath.

Haruka. What have you gotten yourself into?

The taste of blood stained her mouth.

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AN: This chapter took me for f*cking ever. Really. I've never had to trash a chapter before, but this one was just so hard for me to write. It was awful. Which is why it's another late chapter. I know. I really suck. Someone has already pointed that out to me. -sadface- You guys will just have to deal with me and my suckyness. But uh…Yeah. So. What do you guys think? Is it okay? I mean. I'm nine chapters in, and stuff. Give me questions! I want to know what you all are thinking. Because I heart you guys. Haha. Okay. I guess it's time to go to my replies.

Swinging Cloud - Remember that one time where you didn't read this story, even if there was a fire? Yeaaah. Good times. Good times.

Ryoko05 - I didn't want the crowd to find out either. That's why I did what I did. Haha. In this chapter. I was going to end up hindering my own story, if the crowd found out, so soon, anyways. Hahaha.

Dreaded Demon of the Night - I know what's going to happen! I'm going to go make cookies! Heart. Haha.

Everyone Else - I luff you guys. You make me feel so happy on the inside. Thanks for all the kind words, and I do read every single review and take them all to heart. If you guys have any questions, please, ask them.

NOTE: Apparently, according to someone, I need to bump up the rating. So. Next chapter, I'm going to be bumping this story up to M. Sad day, I know. I won't get nearly as much feedback, but whatever. She's been bugging me to do it. And I might do it THIS chapter. But know that I will be doing it in the near future. Thanks!

Okay. See you guys next week. Maybe actually SATURDAY, like it's supposed to be. Hahaha.