A/N: Whew.
All yuri fans out there, yours dearest, the mighty destroyer of all literary quality, has had a sudden streak of inspiration while watching Hidamari
Sketch and thinking of Nana to Kaoru, all that late at night with three other very scary people while on a dose of Red Bull, Pringles and soda
that could kill a horse. Look out for my feared femslash, the one remedy for faith in humanity and its ability to write porn.
Also, werewolves and gore.
Chapter 2-6: Loss and Repayment
Downtown Seattle, 11th October 2010, 05:48 PM
The city was alight with the radiance of the setting sun. Though clouds were gathering on the horizon, it was easy to forget when seeing the entirety of Seattle bathed in a bright golden-bronze glow, like the Messiah himself had parted the heavens to visit. In the narrower alleys, though, it was just as easy to forget that there had ever been a human concept of "heaven". A motley gang of youths were drinking and shouting around the corner of an alley just off a downtown street, the concrete around them scattered with beer cans and yellowed cigarette butts. In the middle of the circle they formed, a girl was lying on the ground, half-naked and covered in spit and vomit. Tears were running down her cheeks, drawing thick black stripes of flowing makeup down her face and neck.
"Oi, Park, she's not naked yet. Should we drink to find out who gets to take her bra?" A stubbled boy, not even remotely near eighteen yet, was gulping down a can of cheap beer, not caring whether his shirt got soaked or not.
"Fuck no. I'm gonna take her panties first, and I'm gonna screw her till she breaks. Such a fucking teacher's pet." The boy called Park, a clean-shaven young man wearing a green baseball cap, stood up, walked over to the girl and kicked her hard in the stomach. She winced, but she seemed accustomed to the pain by this point.
"Just because you get good grades doesn't give you the right to rat on us, you bitch." He stomped down hard on her hand, grinding her fingers against the rugged concrete. "You know what happens to narcs in the Mafia, don't you? Well, we're not them, so if you just lie down and take us all in a row, we're gonna let you go. But if you make just one noise, I'll call my cousin to chain you into a fridge and throw you in the sea, you get?"
Park was growling through his teeth and punctuated his last two words with two kicks to the girl's ribcage. "And we ain't gonna use a rubber, so get ready to drop out. If you kill my kid" - Park smiled without a trace of humor, a sadistic rictus grin that bared his yellowed teeth - "I'll make sure you get a shotgun mouthwash." The rest of the gang was laughing, though much of it seemed forced, and some people were beginning to inch away from the scene. "So, let's -"
"Just in time, huh?" Two young women had stepped into the alley, their faces showing only confidence and a grim expectation. "I can't stand shit like that. Childhood scars." The one speaking was blonde and had the body of an angel. She'd probably once had the face to match, but the look on her face was that of someone way too deep in problems for their own good. "Fucking gutter trash, all of you. Leave her alone, or we'll slice you to ribbons."
Park turned to face them, easily towering over the blonde one by a good head or so, but just the height for him to lock eyes with the other girl. She was quite tan, with more than a hint of Native ancestry and short black hair that was cut to just above her ears. She was thin, but wiry, and there was no doubt that she'd had quite a bit of training. "So what you want?" Park growled at the girls through gritted teeth, leaning forward in a way that seemed intended to threaten. "Stop." The black-haired girl's voice was the kind that could stop a man twice Park's size in his tracks, but he still continued to speak. "That bitch ratted on us to the cops. We never done anything to her, but she narcs on us. You think that's fair?" The blonde girl smirked and spoke, with more than a bit of smugness and pride in her voice. "Well then, if you wanna get us out, you piece of gutter shit, then make us." She raised her chin in a theatrical preparation for a punch.
"No, I couldn't do that to you." Park's voice became smooth like honey, and he leaned a bit closer to the girl. "If you let off us, I'll give you the time of your life. Not that reservation trash friend of yours, though. She's gonna get the special treatment." The blonde girl ignored Park's rant and kept on talking. "I'm saying punch me. Gimme all you've got." Park's sugar-sweet mask fell, and his face contorted in a bitter grimace. Reaching down to his waist, he pulled out a pair of brass knuckles. Slipping them onto his hands, in the almost physical light of the other gang members' awe and admiration, he fired off two hard and fast punches to the girl's face.
"That nearly hurt, you know." Park's blows had split the girl's lip, but over the course of a few seconds, the cut healed, leaving only a few drops of blood. "I can see why they respect you so much. Now, I'll show you my punch." The girl flexed her fingers, and with a loud crack of grinding bone, they lengthened and darkened into dagger-length black claws.
Her smile, previously simply proud and determined, warped into a predatory grin. "I know you're not them, but you're so much alike. This is what you get for hitting a girl." She lunged forward at an impossible speed, so fast that it should have snapped her tendons and frayed her muscles instantly. Before the rapidly dwindling crowd of thugs could even react, she had sunk her claws deep into Park's stomach, bodily fluids rapidly staining his grey jacket a brownish red. She pulled close to him, so close that he could feel her hot breath in his face. She grinned widely, and with the sound of receding flesh and grinding enamel, her teeth slowly grew longer and vaguely canine. "How'd you like that, huh?"
Park was wheezing and gasping for breath, the girl's claws churning his intestines and a rapidly growing pool of blood forming at his feet. "Heh... I think it's... sexy." His words sounded like they were coming from a dreaming man, his skin growing pale and his pupils widening in barely suppressed terror. At first, the girl seemed to be flattered by his words, even vaguely smiling in a wholly human way. The next moment, she narrowed her eyes and bared her jagged teeth, growling under her breath. "Don't fucking say that. I'm not going to be anyone's toy anymore." Her words came out in a low hiss, wheezing past her teeth like every sound was a death threat.
"I'd rather die before I let a man touch me again." She lowered her head in a doll-like jerk, bringing her face just an inch from Park's neck. With a low, canine noise, she ripped into his throat, tearing out flesh and tendons and sending another gout of blood pouring towards the ground. Shaking Park's twitching body from her claws, she cast a glance around the alley, seeing no trace of any of the thugs anymore.
"Well, that was fun. Shame he didn't have a lot of guts at all." The black-haired girl just stood off to the side, surveying the carnage with distant eyes, like the tired parent of a disobedient child. "Hey, you." The girl on the ground raised her head a few painful inches, her eyes sticky with tears and blood. "You're gonna live, I guess. You better do. I won't have you dying on me."
The blonde girl retracted her claws, hard, black tissue slipping seamlessly back into human flesh. "I didn't do this for you, you know. This was for myself. Get home, and I'll meet you in a week if you have any questions." She walked out onto the street, her companion following at her side. The Seattle streets were getting dark, and the blood on the girls' dark clothes was near-impossible to spot in the rapidly fading sunlight.
"You should stop. You really messed up our reputation there." The black-haired girl spoke with a streak of exasperation, but tinged with forgiveness, like she was just as bad herself. "Oh come on, Leah." The blonde straightened her hair out with her fingers, glancing up at the sky. "Since when have you Quileute dogs had any concern for that? I'm not a Cullen anymore. At least I'm not a bloodsucker. I don't need fame or jewelry anymore. I told you, I'm not Hale, King or Cullen anymore. I just wanna be Rosalie. Any problem, Leah?"
Leah sighed audibly and clenched her fists. "Look, Rose, we have traditions. Rules. Just because you came in in a way we haven't seen before doesn't mean you can mess up our name. We're just as much a clan as we're a race. You can be an unkempt street dog, but we are wolves at heart. We have pride and honor, and you're losing yours fast. A bit too far and you'll go off the deep end." Leah bit her lip, as if suppressing an unpleasant memory. "We don't need one more. Please, for my sake, just don't lose it like he did."