To all the readers of Kurayami no Hime: Kurayami no hime will be on hiatus until further noticed, since I really want to develop this fanfic first.
Chapter 3
The next day was the day of moving. No one had told me—naturally—but it was more than a little obvious, seeing that we couldn't have possibly lived one more day in this house with all the basic essentials in a box. Apparently, someone packed my things as well, so my room, which usual had a bit of my own style to it, looked just as interesting as oatmeal. The walls were a pristine white, without the array of fake weapons I usually hung on there just for the hell of it. I figured that someone—mom, most likely—had simply tossed them out the window onto some unlucky passerby's head. The floor was just as plain as the ceiling—normal, light brown carpet with a tint of pink. There were boxes in the far corner of the room, indicating that whoever inhabited the room was soon to move out. Whether she liked it or not.
Personally, I loved it. It meant that I could see my brother, which by far, is the closest thing to a friend I had. That was sad. My twenty four year old brother was my only friend. He was practically an old fart. But either way, I was lucky that I had a sibling like him. He used to help me sneak into the academy when I was little and taught me random facts about the ways of a ninja and what not. It was fun.
After waking up groggily, yet happy, and brushing my teeth. I managed to get myself the most presentable I could be with marks of cuts and bruises all around my body. Some stranger could have easily predicted that I was some punch bag. Wearing a dark, fishnet long sleeve, I easily covered up my nasty cuts from the hand cuffs and chains. With a pair of shorts and bandaging, my legs looked good as new as well. Overall, I avoided look like a punching bag.
Breakfast passed by fast. No one talked—well, at least not to me. Mom and dad were busily, and quite enthusiastically, discussing their precious Himeko's future as a successful saleswoman, seeing that her money skills were excellent. Who really even cared that she could budget her money? Apparently, they did. And apparently, I had to hold myself from gagging at their business-like tone.
"How about you?" Father asked me disdainfully.
"I'm perfectly fine, thank you," I couldn't help but to add a cynical tone in my voice.
"He wasn't asking that, darling," Mother tusked at me like the lady she is. Lady my ass, I thought sourly.
"Rin," Said man lowered his voice at me.
"God knows why you named my Rin. We all know that it means 'cold'," I sighed exasperatedly.
"It had a nice tone," Mom smiled as if reminiscing the past when I gladly did as she was told. Actually, there were no days to reminisce then. It kind of made me wonder what the hell she was thinking about. Actually, I would be better off in a sea of ignorance.
"Be glad of what Mother and Father kindly named you," Of course, they nodded to Himeko's statement. Sometimes, I wondered if they would agree with her if she said that I was a pile of crap. Most likely, seeing that they basically love her and hate me. it was as simple as black and white.
"Thank you Mother and Father for your absolute kindness in choosing me an amazing and exhilarating name," I bowed sarcastically as I left the room, or tried to.
"Come back here," My father snapped at me. Lovely. I swiveled around and stormed back to the table where they were still delicately eating their pancakes, whereas I gulped mine down. I would make a wager that they would never finish eating their breakfast, but I had better things to do than observe this gold diggers. "Sit," He commanded me as if I were some dog. I restrained myself from making a 'woof' sound as is sat on the chair, legs crossed and arms folded.
"Yes, oh kingly one?" The mocking tone never left my voice. It was either I knew how to push people's buttons successfully, or I didn't know when to stop.
"Rin!" Himeko scolded me. God, she was almost as annoying as a mosquito. No, she was much more annoying. You could just simply swat a mosquito, but it would kill me—literally—to swat her, much to my sorrow.
"I'm pretty sure that's my name," I held an sarcastic tone, just to add to their anger, and my amusement. By now, I was silently wondering whether I was in potential threat of insanity.
"Once we are in Iwagakure," my mom started in a low voice, that meant nothing good, "You will live with by yourself, since you a disgrace to us. And you will never speak to us unless told to, understood?" I understood clearly.
"Yes, mother dear," I smiled genuinely, though my comment was just as genuine as fake gold.
"We are leaving," My dad ushered the moving men behind us—who, might I add, were creepily watching us eat and argue—to start moving everything from this house to another, while they would probably move my stuff to a dingy apartment.
They did—except I didn't know that the dingy apartment was in possession of Miroku Suzuki. To say that this was a very happy day would have been correct, if his apartment was just a tad cleaner. Actually, I would prefer it if it was a lot cleaner. Frankly, it looked like a pigsty. The living room, also where the entrance was, was coated in newspapers, old and new. I even swore I saw underwear here and there. The couch was old—it seemed—and very, very dirty. I could barely make out what color it used to be; it was just a dirty color. The rest of the house was just as clean. The kitchen looked as if it jumped out of some prison movie. And his bedroom—well, let's just say that I was too freaked out to even venture in there. The door was well coated with mold and that was enough to keep me out—for now. The only thing in this apartment that was even remotely clean was what I assumed would be my room. It still looked a little run down, but in a place where it looked like animals died, it was practically wearing a halo. Nonetheless, the halo was still bathed with dirt.
"Look who's here," I turned around swiftly to the source of the voice. There stood a man in this twenties—twenty five, to be exact—with a confident smirk on his face. He had platinum blonde hair, that seemed to be damaged from the sun, and sparkling blue eyes.
"Hi to you too," I smiled as I gave him a hug. He reeked of blood—and trust me, it smelled bad, really bad. I immediately backed off, putting my hands up in the international 'back off' sign.
"I don't smell that bad," He made a face that was apparently a grimace, or I'm guessing that was what he intended on. Too bad it came out like a twisted goofy smile.
"Yeah, yeah," I pushed my raven bangs out of my icy blue eyes and chuckled, "How's the ninja life?" I skipped right to the point.
"Great. Better than living with stuck up rich idiots," He made a disgusted face and I couldn't agree more.
"Talking about living," My eyes darted from one corner to the room to another, in an almost paranoid way, "I don't think that staying in place like this counts as living." I was pretty sure that that was the nicest way to state that his place looked like hell.
"That's why you clean it!" He made it seem as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Me? Well, I felt like whooping his ass. Only, I wasn't sure if I could or not.
"I want to become a ninja."
"Only if you clean the house."
"Deal," I didn't even need to think about it. I was practically obsessed in learning how to fight for myself.
After shaking hands and signing contracts that stated that he was now my legal, responsible guardian, (though he didn't really qualify as legal, and with his irresponsible state, it was practically illegal to let me stay with him) I set off on the practically impossible task of cleaning the apartment. The only thing that was in favor for me, was that the area was rather small. Score one for me. Though the size was reasonable for me, the amount of gunk and….whatever that green stuff was…..was too much for me, especially since I really hated such tedious tasks. Personally, I would rather jump off a cliff, but that wasn't an option here.
To reduce the amount of work I had to do, I promptly marched to my parent's estate, ignoring the looks on people's faces, seeing as I was only wearing my pajamas. When I rang the doorbell, a servant girl opened it and once my mom saw me, she pretended that I was just a stranger. Truthfully, I practically was. Obviously, she said 'no' when I asked her for a maid or two….or three. After exactly three hours of constant nagging and harassment and maybe even a threat or two, she finally broke and supplied me with three maids and enough money to redecorate the apartment. And the reason?
"No daughter of mine, disgraceful or not, will live in a rotten place," Of course, it was to save her pride, but it was considered a compliment, coming from her. I mean, at least I was still her daughter. Sometimes, I wished I wasn't. With a hasty 'thank you' I ran back to apartment complex. As promised, the three maids were standing outside the apartment door, each politely handing me a wad of money. I could not deny that my parents owned money trees.
After I had a quick change of clothing, I observed myself in the dingy mirror located in my bedroom. Maybe I was just arrogant, but with the black shorts, black tank-top, and a fishnet jacket, I looked badass. Adding on a thin cover of lip gloss and some stiletto boots only added to the look. Tying my hair up in a messy ponytail, I walked out of the apartment to find some furniture shop. The only problem was—I had no idea where it was. For all I knew, I could have just passed by it an hour ago. Most likely, I did.
Somehow, I ended up in an alley. From the smell of the strong liquor and the faint hum of techno music, I assumed that I was next to some skanky bar. After seeing some bimbos wearing pretty much close to nothing, I silently confirmed my assumption. It was now dark and I mentally slapped myself for my insane quest on furniture shopping.
"Hey baby," Breath that reeked of some cheap beer tickled my neck. I immediately whirled around to hit the man—at least I think it was a man. Personally, I would be freaked if it was a lady. But it was a male.
My punch wasn't even close to the power I imagined myself having. Actually, it was more or less what I imagined Himeko of having. After thinking that, my pride was shot and decapitated. The man stood there, unaffected. Even in his drunken state, he was stronger than me.
"Can't even throw a decent punch—you're going to be an easy one," His voice slurred badly and it seemed to me that he did this every day. The thought made me sick.
"You'll see how much of a punch I can throw," I was lying, obviously, but slowly bent down to pick up a stray bottle. The man, in the meantime, slowly began to progress towards me. Lovely. As he came close enough to threaten my personal space, I launched the bottle at his face. The impact was pretty much what I had expected—it fractures his skin, enough for him to look at me with a menacing look. He growled at me in an animalistic way and whistled loudly. It wasn't flirtatious in anyway—it was more like a call.
Almost immediately after the sound was made, four shadows emerged from the nearby trashcans. Personally, I had no idea how they were hiding in those.
"God knows how bad those things stunk," I circled around all of them. Which didn't exactly turn out right. After successfully dodging two drunks, (it still hurt me to think that drunks were better fighters than me), the third man hit me square on the neck, knocking me out. The last thing I heard was a big, life threatening explosion. But hey, my life was always threatened.
Please inspire me (:
