Chapter 27: The Hit

Rin was a ball of energy.

Her mind felt as if it were going a mile a minute, already ten steps ahead with her body yet to catch up. After tiptoeing out of Mikoto's room and back to her own, bits of conversation between her clansmen drifted up the stairs to her ears, alerting her of their plans regarding the Colorless King before his trail went cold.

There was no doubt in her mind that Tatara's murderer would show his face again, and she wanted to be there when they went after him. Not a chance in hell she would miss out on avenging her beloved clansman's death. However, she also knew that there was one problem she had to take care of before starting with the next. It would be foolish to try to take on the Colorless King and Niaka at the same time. With plans already in motion for hunting down Tatara's killer, Rin knew the time had come for her to make the move on Yamaken. She couldn't afford any more distractions.

Darting into her room, Rin made sure to lock the door behind her before getting on her knees to reach beneath her bed. She hadn't had much reason to look at her bag since she joined HOMRA, and was happy to note that it was still in the same place she had stashed it. Yanking it out, Rin tossed it unceremoniously onto the sheets. The clothes that she had arrived with had been moved into her dresser, but the rest of the bag was still filled with the remainder of her belongings: her medical supplies, the manila folder filled with pictures of Ayami and information about Niaka, some money she had stashed away for safe keeping…

And then she found it.

She had bought it about six months after Ayami's death, around the time when she decided to pull herself together to focus on revenge rather than drink herself to death. Rin had been living in some pretty seedy areas, and had been a familiar face amongst the bums and hoodlums that roamed the streets late at night. She remembered their shock upon seeing her sober and determined, and the fire that had lit her eyes when she had approached them looking to buy. It was almost funny that she lived with HOMRA now, a clan who did not tolerate weapons dealings in their territory, when that was exactly where she had bought her Beretta BU9 Nano. It was a small handgun – lightweight, easy to hold and easy to conceal – and held six rounds, which was more than enough in Rin's opinion. She had promised herself long ago that this man would die the same way her sister had.

No poison, no bombs, no fire. Just a bullet to his skull.

It had been some time since she had held it in her hand, but the cool metal warmed instantly at her touch. Though she hadn't practiced with it in a while, it still felt familiar in her palm. Rin checked the magazine clip first to make sure it was empty, then groped around the inside of her bag for the box of bullets she had bought. There was no need to load it up just yet, but she wanted to make sure she had everything in order before she left.

After digging her green utility jacket from the pile of laundry near the foot of her bed, she placed six bullets in the inside pocket lining of her jacket. However, there weren't many places on her body to hide the gun, and, after checking the safety to make sure it was on, Rin had to settle for tucking it in the small of her back in the waistband of her jeans. She mentally swore to herself, wishing she had bought the holster as well when it had been offered. It had been a good deal, but she just hadn't had the money to spare.

Shrugging into her coat, Rin slipped out of her room as silently as she could and headed down the stairs. It was the weekend, one that she had not been scheduled to work, so Rin was confident she would not be targeted. If it weren't for her ability to compartmentalize most of her thoughts and emotions, Rin might have felt bad for setting up one of the other servers or Takumi as the prime suspect.

She knew that Mikoto would probably stay in his room most of the day, no doubt still enjoying his release from SCEPTER 4's cell, and that the rest of HOMRA would be busy planning their next move today so that they could round up the rest of their members tomorrow.

It was the perfect distraction; one that she could not afford to waste.

Rin arrived at Seventh Heaven with plenty of time before the Niaka crew arrived. Her perch – a sturdy thick beam of a Japanese twisting pine located across the street – allowed her to remain rather unnoticed, but gave her complete viewing access to the exotic dance club's exit. Despite a slight breeze sending a shiver up her spine, Rin waited as the hours passed by, filling the magazine clip of her Beretta with bullets to pass the time, until the drunken men began to pour out the exit one by one. She had been serving them long enough now to know their habits. Ren and Yamaken usually stayed behind a bit longer than their lower level associates – Yamaken, to review his work in silence, while Ren remained for the girls.

It was as good of a chance as she was going to get.

Ducking into the club, Rin found out her observations were correct upon seeing Ren seated at the table closet to the dancers. His eyes were glazed as he stared at their gyrating hips, and she doubted he would notice her slipping through the door on the opposite end of the hazy room. She was also pleased to note that Takumi was nowhere in sight, allowing her to disappear through the side door without a scene.

Once inside the stairwell, Rin reached beneath her coat for her gun, unlocking the safety in the process. A bead of sweat rolled down her temple, and she took several shaky breaths to gather her wits about her.

It was now or never. She could continue to work at Seventh Heaven, waiting on creepy men and thugs, or she could step up and do what she had set out to do in the first place. Whether it was now or months down the road, Rin knew she wouldn't be able to rest until Takashi Yamaken was dead for his misdeeds. There was no sense in dragging it out any longer. Any thoughts of facing Mikoto upon her return or of the state her soul after this was all over had to be pushed aside. She accomplished one of the hardest parts: getting inside. Now, all that was needed was to deliver the final blow.

Her sneakers muted the sound of her footsteps as she climbed the stairs to the second level, a sharp contrast to the usual clatter of her high heels. Her palm was beginning to sweat around the handle of the gun, causing Rin to tighten her grip.

When she reached the second floor landing Rin stared at the door for half a minute. On the other side, she knew Yamaken would be seated around the table, probably finishing up his drink. There was no sound coming from the room, signifying that he was alone, which alleviated some of the tension in her chest only a fraction.

All this work, all this preparation, had led up to this. She had had her period of mourning and grief. Now was the time to exact her revenge.

So why was part of her wanting to turn tail and leave? To run to the safety of her King and her clansmen? Why was it so terrifying to do this on her own?

Taking a deep breath, Rin reached for the handle and pushed, not wishing to allow herself the chance to back out. As the door swung back, she found that her calculations had been correct. Seated at the table beside a glass of whiskey, scribbling on a pad of paper with a cigarette dangling from his lips was Yamaken. Upon hearing her entrance, the pen paused halfway down the pad.

"Aiko-chan." While his tone was confused, his eyes remained flat and emotionless.

Rin nudged the door shut with her heel, locking it behind her without breaking eye contact. If he had heard, Yamaken made no sign. Instead, he leaned forward onto his elbow, his eyes flashing in amusement.

"Well, come now. I'm assuming you aren't here to serve me a drink."

Her right hand, which held her gun, was still pinned between her body and the door, and as she stared down at the man who caused the death of her sister along with so many others, Rin began to shake. There was no doubt in her mind that this man deserved to die, and yet she felt her fingers begin to slip and her knees tremble.

"I wondered when you'd finally get the courage to face me."

Rin jerked at this, her wide eyes finding his cool azure ones in seconds.

"You don't think I remembered you? That little scamp underneath the bridge?" Yamaken's lips twisted into a sardonic smirk at her surprise. At her silence, he added, "It was your eyes. Hard to forget. They gave you away instantly. Now, what is it you're here for?"

Rin's mind seemed to have gone blank for a minute. Her shock at being recognized was hard to see past, particularly since she realized he had known who she was for weeks now, but after a few moments she managed to whisper, "I'm here for her."

The dark haired man frowned, and the puzzled tone in his voice actually reached his piercing eyes this time. "I'm sorry, who?"

Ayami's bright blue eyes flashed in front of Rin's vision, and a bolt of rage shot through the Rin's core.

"Do you think I'm stupid?" Her voice came out a barely controlled whisper. Her hands were clenched into fists, and she could feel her nails biting into her palms. The pain wasn't nearly large enough of a distraction, however, and Rin's turbulent emotions came pouring out into a scream. "If you know who I am, then you know who I'm here for!"

Yamaken hadn't even flinched at her outburst. In fact, he leaned back on his palms looking rather bored. "Clearly, I don't. I assumed you were here because of the night we had beaten-"

"Oh like I give a shit about that," Rin snapped. Sure, she could still feel the bite of his boots against her ribs and the vomit that spilled out of her throat after they had finished, but that wasn't the incident that fueled her fire. "For my sister."

Rin's grip tightened on her Beretta as Yamaken reached up to remove his glasses, wiping the lenses clean on the hem of his shirt. His disinterest made her want to spit fire.

"Can you describe her? I've had a very busy couple years. I can't remember them all."

It was then Rin realized that he didn't even know who Ayami was. Her death didn't weigh on his conscience nor was he haunted by her image every night. In the back of her mind, she supposed she should have realized this sooner after seeing that little girl in the warehouse almost killed, but it had never registered until now. Rin was so horrified by this knowledge that she might not have realized her gun was now in plain sight had it not been for Yamaken's attention diverting to her right thigh. She could feel the gun wavering in her grip, and flattened the barrel and her palm against her leg to keep herself from trembling.

That amused smirk fixed itself upon his face again as he placed his glasses back on the bridge of his nose. "All this time you had your chance and you still haven't pulled the trigger." He shook his head, then turned his attention back to his pad of paper. He continued in a matter-of-fact tone, "You aren't able to kill someone. Violence isn't in your nature."

"You know nothing about me." She meant for those words to come out a growl, but her voice shook halfway through.

"I see a sad little girl who lost her sister," Yamaken replied coldly, not bothering to lift his eyes from his writing. "You may be angry, but you aren't a killer."

A cry of anguish ripped from Rin's chest. She was terrified that what he said was true, that she wasn't a killer and she wouldn't be able to go through with this, and even more terrified that she was. His confidence in her failure rattled her. How could she let her sister's death go unavenged? How could she let this murderer continue to walk this planet after knowing what he's done? What he'll continue to do? And yet, how could she be a murderer?

But then a thought struck her.

"So the men in your warehouse just dropped dead of their own accord?"

He was wrong when he said she wasn't a killer, wrong when he said that violence wasn't in her nature. Life at HOMRA had changed her, for better or worse. Violence was now something to be expected, and it no longer frightened her. She had been to the lowest point she possibly could, killing and burning the men who had threatened that family in the warehouse, and after this was all said and done she would have to face the fact that her soul was most likely beyond any thought of redemption.

"Those men died by-" His eyes flashed to her face once more, and, for the first time, he looked at her as if she had done something genuinely interesting. "Ah, moving up in the world, are you? From the street scrum I'd scrape off my shoe to a red clansman? I'm impressed."

Yamaken gave her an appraising look, his glasses flashing in the fluorescent light. "We could use a girl like you amongst our ranks. That sort of power and violence?" His voice trailed off.

Gritting her teeth, Rin spat, "Tch, as if. Besides, I blacked out most of it, barely even remember anything."

"Even better," He remarked casually. "To kill without remorse? Certainly would be an asset. I should know. It's part of what has gotten me so far."

Rin's fingers spasmed at the thought, "I'm nothing like you. Those men-"

"Deserved it? Yes, yes, I'm sure that's what you tell yourself at night. You probably find it a blessing that you're not haunted by their ghosts. But this-" He nodded in the direction of her Beretta, still pressed against her thigh. "This would make you exactly like me. Exactly like that Colorless King your friends are hunting, in fact."

Yamaken got to his feet and slowly made his way around the side of the table. He only stopped when he was little more than a few feet away, and she could see him eyeing her in that cold, calculating way he always did. "You might tell yourself that it wasn't you there in that warehouse, and you can tell yourself that killing me is no different than killing them. Chalk it up to semantics all you want, but deep down you know that this is different. In every possible way. "

A cold calm seemed to wash over her body, steadying the shakiness in her hand as she stared him down. He was right. She wasn't buried in the recess of her mind as she had been when those flames had almost consumed her. She wasn't blind to the face of the man whom she was about to murder in cold blood. She would see his face in her dreams when she slept. But wasn't that better than seeing Ayami's? Cold, lifeless, and unavenged?

Yamaken took another two steps forward. His eyes remained trained on her own, except for the occasional flicker to her right wrist.

"When you walk out that door you will not be the same girl who had walked in."

She could tell he was going to try to reach for her Beretta. He thought he had talked her out of it and that he was safe. It was one of those moments where her mind felt as if it could see everything with perfect clarity. No haunting visions danced across her eyes, no emotions clouded her thoughts. In fact, it was then she realized why she had been so terrified to enter the room in the first place. He was right. When she left this room she was going to have his blood on her hands. And she accepted that.

"And you're going to have to live with that."

Rin raised her right arm.

"I guess I am."

Author's Note: SO YEAH. That happened. Yamaken's officially out of the game. I wanted Rin to struggle with this decision because even though this was what she had wanted and worked so long for, she still had chosen to murder a man. That's not something to be taken lightly, no matter how much violence she had been exposed to. I wanted her to be terrified of herself because, as strong and powerful as she is, this is something that will follow her around forever. She knew this might destroy her, but chose to do it anyway to exact her vengeance for her sister.

Sorry to depress any readers about that but I figured I should elaborate in case there was any confusion about Rin's struggle. Now she has to deal with the repercussions of taking out a mob boss.