Hope you like it! There's a little surprise in this one.
Once again, for the record, this reads much better if you select the FF option of page width of 3/4 and (personal preference here) Arial font.
The room was bright, cheerfully lit, when Kaidoh walked in. The Maiden was not known to be the most infuriatingly happy criminal boss for nothing.
"Ah, Kai, you're here! Oh, I'm so happy to see you! Especially after that dreadfully morbid voice mail you left me. Can't you be happier, dear? It would do that sour disposition of yours a lot of good. Smile a bit! Oh, I bet you frightened half of my men, walking in with that scowl. Oh, Kai."
Blinking at the rush of words, he settled for a noncommittal grunt. He was used to it. Being the Right Hand meant he spent an inordinate amount of time with the Maiden, and a good majority of that time was spent enduring the constant barrage of words that she happily spewed.
"Let's go somewhere to chat, okay? I've been cooped up in here for so long-that grouchy bodyguard you hired won't let me go anywhere-I swear I'll go mad if I sit here any longer. How about a cafe, dear? I found this lovely new creperie that I'm sure you'll love. Come, come."
Nodding mutely, he offered her his arm and in a flurry of dainty hands and flounces of lace, escorted his boss out. She wouldn't calm down enough to properly discuss things until she'd vented some of her fussing. Despite their casual exit, he made sure to check their surroundings discreetly. They were in the Earth Alliance territory, not Maiden home ground. While it was safer than Queen territory, he still felt uneasy.
His precaution proved to be premonition when, a few meters away from their destination, he felt the creeping sensation of people behind them-too close. A glance at his boss, however, kept his hands at his sides. He gripped the handgun underneath his jacket, but other than that, made no outward sign of hostility.
The Maiden had pulled out her fan, using it to cover her lower face in a ladylike manner. For all intents and purposes, she looked like a delicate noblewoman or trophy wife, wafting a lacy fan with dainty, white-gloved hands. Kaidoh knew from experience, however, that the fan hid not a demure smile but a vicious smirk.
When the attackers slid around them in the dark of the alley, hands reaching towards the Maiden, they didn't even know what had hit them.
Like a dancer in an Argentine tango, she spun into his arms (conveniently using his body as a shield, Kaidoh noted wryly) before twirling back out behind the attackers, taking them by surprise. She laughed as she moved, her fan a blur. Two strokes of the fan-as if she was executing a move from a fan dance-and two men lay on the ground before them, throats slashed by the hidden steel edge of a deceptively lacy fan.
As they stepped away, she looked at her ruined white gloves and sighed, "Kai, dear, these gloves are positively dreadful. The color does nothing for my skin. Do you have my second pair with you, by any chance?"
Silently, he procured the second pair from his pocket. He watched as she carefully peeled off the first pair, handing them off to him without a word. The fan, trimmed in dark red lace that showed no stain, went into a ruffled pouch at her waist. Her smiling face showed no sign of disturbance.
The Earth Alliance called Tomoka Osakada their Warrior Maiden for a reason. The enemy called her the Mad Maiden for the same reason.
He paused for a moment to turn the men over, taking note of their faces. He wiped off where his hands touched, careful not to leave fingerprints. Both were highly wanted men, mercenary hitmen well known in the underworld. Tokyo PD listed them with a reward for capture, "dead or alive". Kaidoh pulled out a phone and sent a brief text to Tezuka: 'Two from the list down in second alley from Beau Monde cafe. Reward will not be claimed'. With a push of a button, the text was sent.
He turned to his boss and escorted her into the cafe, neither of them sparing a glance behind.
Ryoma ducked into the café's restroom, locking the door behind him. As he started to change out of his jacket and pants, he glanced into the mirror. A tall young man wearing the black gakuran of a private high school looked back, with black hair and serious brown eyes. He looked like the son of a traditional Japanese family, probably an old and prestigious one. Smirking, Ryoma finished changing and pulled out his contact case. It was troublesome, being born with his unusually light eyes. They were so distinctive that he never went out in public without colored contacts. Now, he quickly switched out the brown ones he was wearing for a pair that was lighter, subtly hazel and green. Though the difference was minute, it would change people's perception of him enough to leave a completely different person in their memory.
After folding the gakuran into his bag and changing into casual jeans and a tee-shirt, he slicked his hair back with some water and hastily tied it into a short, stubby ponytail about an inch long. Queen had been after him to grow his hair out, but Ryoma convinced her that this length was ideal. He was able pull off different looks depending on how he tied his hair, or how he styled it when it was down. It wasn't long enough to leave a strong impression, but not so short that he was limited in how he could use it.
Lastly, he changed out of the specially designed black boots, tucking them into his bag, and slipped on a pair of sneakers instead. The boots added 2 inches to his height with a hidden platform, so that he looked much older and taller when he wore them.
Now, he checked himself in the mirror quickly. A younger boy with a casual attitude and outfit looked back. His light eyes hinted at a mixed background, and his messy ponytail gave him a rebellious air. Even his bag was different: Ryoma had prepared a reversible bag that was black on one side, and colourful on the other.
He gave himself a cocky grin before he walked out. Nobody was better than him at this.
As Ryoma ambled through the café as if he was looking for a friend, he made sure to keep an eye out for his target. He didn't have to wait long. A few minutes later, he saw a white-gloved hand in the corner of his eye. Bingo. He pulled out his phone and pretended to dial a number as he absently pulled out a chair at an empty table. Though anyone at the café would have only seen a distracted boy sitting down at a random table, Ryoma had actually chosen this table on purpose. His back was mostly turned to his target, making him less suspicious than if he had sat facing or completely away from them. He murmured some annoyed words into the dial tone about waiting for a friend who was late, again, before hanging up and putting in some earbuds. After pulling out a notebook and a textbook, he looked just like any other student studying in the café. For extra character, he tucked a sports magazine in the back of the book.
Instead of music, however, a spin on the dial of his MP4 played for him the voices of all the conversations around him, amplified. Within seconds Ryoma had picked out the conversation he was interested in, and clicked Record. He turned back to his textbook and continued taking notes, keeping a basic awareness of his surroundings and listening to the conversation.
It was a long conversation, but the café was near a large public school and so was often frequented by students, so he wasn't too worried. Besides, he was getting a lot of his homework done. Although he didn't attend any public or private school, Queen had insisted that he be tutored in all the basic subjects, so that he would always have a good base of knowledge to use on missions. It was a sound point, although sometimes he resented the extra work.
When he heard shuffling and the click of plates being taken, he realized that the conversation was almost over. From the sound of it, they had finished the important parts of the discussion. He didn't move to pack up—it would be too suspicious for him to leave at the same time they did.
It was then that he heard it. In the bustle, it would have been so easy to miss.
"Oh, and make sure to remind them. Tomorrow at the dome, alright?"
And right after that, even quieter:
" I'll be so unhappy if they missed such an important Enterprise Association meeting."
He viciously quashed the desire to laugh in triumph.
Queen would be pleased, oh yes.
READ THIS IT IS IMPORTANT:
I'm at a point now where I don't really know which direction I want to take the story..so give me your advice! I know I still need to work on how Kaidoh is working on the committee, but I also wanted to start developing one of my OCs that will play a big role in the story. Beyond that, I'm lost.
What would you guys like to see happen? Any particular plot points you're interested in? Please let me know! And as usual, your feedback on this chapter, please! It's not one of my best, nor was it particularly fun to write.
Sidenote: This chapter was a nightmare to write. Maiden just would not translate as nicely into words as she was in my head. Sorry for any problems.
My point in showing Ryoma's careful transformation is to show that he's not just a pretty face in a gang..he's got skills and he knows how to use them. Eyes, for instance, are one of the most defining aspects of someone's face and by changing them (even subtly) he's able to create a new persona. Having his hair drawn back is important too (not only for the imagery of Samurai Nanjiroh, which I'm sure nobody thought of because it isn't really emphasized)-soneone who has their face exposed like that normally isn't someone who is hiding anything. So that makes him less of a suspicious figure, even if he looks like a teenage ruffian with a ponytail.