Fleeting Sakura Arc

Chapter 1:

Worst first impression

The rainwater is supposed to be cold. It should feel like icy needles against your skin, especially if there is nothing there to protect you from it. But at the moment next to a concrete road and stormy grey clouds filling the sky there is nothing.

Numbness.

"Are you alright?"

Large eyes look up at the dark shadow covering them. There is innocent light in that single gaze – the complete opposite of the gloomy rain. Mud forms and the sewers fill with that same murkiness.

There is no answer to the question, though.

"Why are you cryin'?"

A small hand reaches out towards a pale larger one. The latter's fingers have long since hued with icy blue shade and dodge the smaller limb.

The rain continues to fall and the first step towards the flooding road is taken. The pair of feet make 'splash' sounds with every step. Large round circles form together with the drops of waters hitting the liquid covering the concrete. They ripple through what could be a smooth surface. The water on the ground is far colder than the one falling from the sky.

There is still nothing.

Tires screech. Two blinding lights.

"Look out!"

"I bet he used his family's influence to get the position."

He could ignore all of them. The respectful masks they manage to put on and the way their eyes flash with envy or annoyance whenever he passes by. It isn't like it hasn't happened before. No matter where it is outside the walls of the manor, the whispers from and expressions on both strangers' and acquittances' faces are all the same. One could call it a second skin, the way those things continuously follow the youthful boy.

You are better than them. His clenched fists started trembling a while back, but now they are positively tremoring. Also, there is a noticeable frown tugging his eyebrows together, but the men holding the back of their group don't notice.

Lucky them.

"Shh! He will hear you!"

Too late for that, he almost wants to grind out. The heat is slowly gathering in his head and if there is one more strain in the atmosphere he will snap. He knows this and would gladly go with the rage boiling in his gut.

They do not know what they are talking about. This position wasn't given to him… at least that is how Byakuya sees it. He has been working hard. There is nothing but the difference in the effort that divides him from the others. The more he thinks of this, the tighter his hand clutches the handle of his sword. This very same Zanpakutō is what he gained with his own strength and nothing else.

He shouldn't glower over what anyone else says. He should stand proud, for his house and family name. After all, he has been charged with an important mission. There is no room for losing one's temper and –

"He is still a little kid, too."

Something snaps and his steps halt.

"Huh?"

In a second, the dark-haired Soul Reaper has twisted his neck to glare at the frozen subordinates who have started sweating profoundly. Nobody moves, not even twitches. It is clear from the dark seeping aura around their newly appointed superior that those are the best courses of action they can take.

"Would you," Byakuya starts ominously, hand reaching for the handle of the sword, "care to repeat that?"

"N-no, sir!" The first one manages to speak up and shakes his head together with the other three.

"I s-said nothing, sir!"

"N-neither did I!"

"Please forgive our insolence!" The entire four-man squad lowers their heads into deep bows and speak-up at the same time. Everyone's foreheads are touching the dirty ground belonging to one of the lower districts in Soul Society. They probably wouldn't be doing this, if the one before them didn't appear as the incarnation of the devil himself.

"Hmph!" The young man clicks his weapon shut and turns his back to them. "Make sure your attention stays on the mission only. We have to fully report what we discovered later to captain and no mistakes are allowed," he says evenly, no trace of malice or previous anger left in his tone. "Is that understood?"

"Y-yes, Kuchiki-san, sir!" They all chorus and straighten up, going back to following him through the streets.

The scene has created little attention to them. People always make way, whenever Soul Reapers are walking through the districts. They all know that nothing good will come from disturbing their business in the area and so mostly keep to themselves. Byakuya is next to whispering behind his back used to people avoiding from getting in the way. So, this behavior isn't what puzzled and created uncomfortableness for him, when arriving here. The appearance and smell of the entire place are what has caused him to falter a bit.

He is not used to this kind of air. It has more odors from different sources and space is far more cramped than anywhere he is been to. That is also why he is finding this mission bothersome. With this much limit to search and wide area to do so, there is a problem in how they are going to find their target from these parts. This mission is one of the chances for Byakuya to prove himself – he can't let these minor details stop him.

"We part here," he finally says in the middle of a wide opening in the middle of the run-down city. "The orders are to mainly gather intel on the missing person. Your priority remains on alerting Squad two if there is a need for force."

"Yes, sir!" They all square their shoulders and a sense of pride fills Byakuya.

This is the best course of action. By scattering they can cover more grounds and, in a great likelihood, find details that can't be scavenged out in a group. The other squads sent out here have, in all probability, done the same. If they all stay together, they will be easily noticed and then create a sense of fear. The suspect would have only small distances to move freely in.

Mentally gathering his plans on searching the district from the portion given to him and the men, the young Soul Reaper begins to walk down yet another alley. First, observe, engage and then analyze the information. That is how he should approach anyone who might be acting suspiciously or appears to have links to what he seeks. Even now, as he walks calmly forward with one hand still on his sword, many shady individuals are avoiding his eyes and approach. This is also problematic, though. There are many aspects from them that he could question, and the people only seem to grow in numbers the longer he walks.

"This mission is not only for you to gather intel, but to show persistence and calmness. Do not forget that recklessness is not acceptable while you are fulfilling your duty." Byakuya frowns, recalling his grandfather's words. His determination only grows from them. The last person he would want to bring shame and disappointment to is Ginrei.

"GAAH! Someone stop that bloody thief!"

The young Soul Reaper's heart makes a small jump and his attention turns sharply towards a nearby street. It is on the other side of a narrow pathway between two shaggy buildings. A figure runs past and Byakuya watches in slow motion as that person disappears behind a corner.

One ruffian knows many from the same area. Thinking this, he doesn't hesitate sprint after, barely minding what kind of filth he is stepping on. Unlike any other soul in this district, only a Soul Reaper could know how to flash step. And that is exactly how he gets more than two-step ahead of the escapee and is behind them in a second.

Control.

This time, without a thought, he reaches out and curls the entire length of his arm around the person's middle – they scream. There is not a second to think, when he has flipped them rather easily down to the ground, creating a small cloud of dust. The person now beneath Byakuya gasps and starts struggling.

Restrain.

He twists a single wrist behind the suspects back and they yelp in pain as he drives his elbow deep into their back. "Don't move."

"Ow, ow, ow, ow, let go, ow!"

"I said don't move!"

With much difficulty, the person finally manages to look over the shoulder at the young boy on top. The fall has made dirt smother the face and features, but a single watery grey eye is still glaring up fiercely. Byakuya had noticed before and even now from the complaining, but this person has a high-pitched voice. Not the kind that is shrill to the point of pain, but not deep enough to belong to a man.

A woman.

Huffing, she bangs her free fisted hand against the ground. "Kind of hard, when you are – ow, ow! Stop breaking my fricking arm! What is your problem!?"

This is a somewhat a comical sight. The woman is clearly older than the young man on top of her. She is also thicker in build and Byakuya easily appears as a very thin and stick-like youngster. Still, he has managed to overpower her and for a moment he is hesitant. This is not an image of a thief he had in mind – he was expecting a man or a boy, with rougher features.

She has a scar, though. Indicating not so gentle upbringing. It is a thin line, barely visible, and only becomes visible, when there is a flash of fear registered in the brown orbs and dark eyebrows knit together. The skin around the scar tissue tightens from this and highlights how it runs up from the corner of her eyebrow and an inch upwards, towards the hairline. The woman is aware of the situation, as her gaze darts between the dark uniform and her captor's face.

There is a silent understanding between them. She now knows whom he is based on the black outfit and his hold doesn't loosen, when the struggling ceases. In fact, it tightens from suspicion. The trace of panic and fear vanish from the grey gaze and those orbs dull into something aching close to monotony.

The woman's eyelids close. "Just my luck."

That single muttered line causes Byakuya to frown. He doesn't understand what has come over her – she doesn't fight and has become completely slack as if giving up the fight. Irritation bubbles in his gut. Is she underestimating me?

"I have questions and you will answer them, thief."

She sputters, the tenseness in the muscles returning. She looks back at him with disbelief on her dirtied face. "Wh-what did you just call me?"

"A thief," he repeats, tightening his grip and watching her wince. "You will answer truthfully, or I will break your arm."

Her cheeks pale under the mud. "Whoa! Hold on a sec! Listen, I may have stolen these clothes from that old grey witch a few months back, but I doubt that that is enough to make me lose a limb! Have mercy! Waah! Don't kill me! I was only chasing another thie – ow, ow, ow, ow!"

Byakuya nearly flinches from how loud she starts crying out in pain. He is starting to doubt, though, that he got the wrong one. There is no possible stolen item in sight and his eyes trail all over the grounds around them. They have somehow ended up into an abandoned alley, with barely anything surrounding them. Unless she has hidden it underneath the ghastly greyish brown kimono she wears, there is really no other place he can think of where she could have placed the snatched object.

A street person still has to know the ways of streets. And the people who live there.

Getting both tired and confused by her cries, he twists the wrist and presser it tighter against her back. Her jaw clicks shut. "Cease your yammering. What do you know of Akemichi Kumotetsu?"

"H-huh? Ake…" she trails off, but then glances up at him with uncertainty. Her mouth opens and closes with hesitation, but then she asks carefully: "What do you want with him?"

"That is none of your concern," he answers bluntly.

The woman's eye twitches for a small second before she lets out a huff and drops her forehead on the ground. She lets out a small grunt from the impact, but otherwise stays tightlipped for a while. "… how about you let me go and I will tell you about him? Sounds good? Please tell me it sounds good."

Again, Byakuya doesn't slacken his iron-tight grip. Both it and his expression stay stoic, despite the calculating thoughts in his head. The silence is unnerving and finally, the woman gathers the courage to glance back up at him and she visibly stiffens. There is an obvious difference in their eyes, despite the same color. While hers are sparkling with innocence and silent prayer the Soul Reaper's are cold and narrowed in suspicion.

"What do you know of him?" He finally asks in that same blunt tone he has used until now.

The woman's jaw drops. "What about letting me go!?"

"You aren't in any position to make demands. You will probably just try running away and I do not have time for games."

For a moment, a small insignificant second, there is a flash of emotion inkling close to irritation in her gaze. However, as soon as it is there, it disappears, and the innocent glaze is back. "Fine. But you have to promise to let me go after."

Depends on the information you can provide, he almost wants to say but bites his tongue.

She takes the silence as a positive answer and clears her throat. "I have only met and spoken to him a couple of times in the past – we only greeted each other, mind you – but I know he isn't really popular in these parts. I don't really know the details, but basically, everyone hates his guts. The guy also usually hangs out near the district's border. They have a really small fish shop there and he goes there to buy some food. You should check that part out."

By the end of her talk, Byakuya has developed a deep frown on his face. "Is that all?"

Probably for the third time, she glances up and a visible trail of sweat lines down against her forehead. "Um… he lives around here?"

"When was the last time you saw him?"

She is clearly hesitating, again. "I-it was… last week?"

There is a very thick silence. Neither of the two speaks and the only thing serving as a reminder of the situation and location is the constant chatter and occasional yelling coming from the busy street somewhere behind them. The temperature of the air seems to drop a few degrees, though, if possible.

"You," the black-haired youth starts and then digs his elbow into the woman's back, causing her to yowl in pain, "are lying." He stops putting pressure on her, but his fingers curl tighter around the wrist in a warning. "Last week he was still part of the squad twelve and on active duty. There is no way you could have seen him."

Gritting her teeth, the woman slowly twists her neck to lock their eyes together. Finally, there is no trace of fear or uncertainty in her, like the helplessness and wailing never existed. A small grin spreads on her lips, instead. It isn't feral one that belongs to a ruthless street rat or a nasty one that is to scorn and mock the young Soul Reaper.

She is grinning up at him in a playful and mischievous manner.

"You know, for a kid, you sure have some muscles."

Byakuya gets a second to blink before his captive has gathered dirt into her free hand and tossed it at his face. Immediately, all of his senses are filled with either the taste, smell or the feeling of rough earth and his hold loosens. The woman takes this opportunity – in a second, much like how he had captured her, the dark-haired boy is the one who ends up falling to his side and feeling how she squirms out of his hold and reach.

A failure.

A sense of panic causes him to desperately wipe off the dirt in his eyes – he doesn't remember the last time he felt like this – while his other hand twitches towards the handle of his sword. Every part of his eyes stings and he coughs when the specks of dust manage to enter his throat.

"S-sorry about that, but you do kind of deserve this," the woman's voice is not once again scorning, but actually sounds a tad bit apologetic, if not annoyed. A weird combination.

"D-damn you," Byakuya hisses and cracks his one eye open, glaring at the figure whose outline is blurred by tears. He is not so sure what kind of face he is making, but judging by the small squeak, the sight is not pleasant.

How dare she…

The last time he felt this kind of burning rage… the time when he was humiliated to this kind of extent… every fiber of his being is being burned by sheer anger and the familiar sensation of blood rushing into his head returns. The hand closing around the sword's handle is not twitching anymore but grips it to the point where Byakuya's knuckles turn white.

That Cat Demon is one thing. That woman stands on the same standing with him when it comes to their households. But this person before him is far beneath in every aspect. Beneath his blood, his rank, and background.

And she has dared to make a mockery out of him.

A disgrace.

Through the blur, the way she starts taking steps back is obvious. "H-how about I leave now? Good? Good… See ya!"

"Wait! Stop right there!"

Why me!?

The ground is slippery and grimy and unfit for quick movement. And I am running like a mad dog. Circling and turning around buildings until I am not even sure if I am heading wherever I want to. Not even falling and colliding with people and walls can stop me from moving forward. Every person who looks after me with wide eyes must think that I am a woman possessed by a mindless spirit.

Run, run, run!

Now and then, I do the most unwise thing and glance over my shoulder, still recalling the previous scratching of the earth, when pressed down. It was horrible. That is the mildest word I can come up to the treatment I received while speeding up like my life depends on it. For a moment back there – in an abandoned space, an alley, where no soul could be a witness to a gruesome crime – that one boy had looked ready to wrench my head from my shoulders.

At first, it was scary and amusing, but near the end, it was like a life-death situation. There is an ache around my wrist and back that remind me of the terrible turn. He seriously was ready to break my arm! In all of my life, the last thing I ever thought of witnessing was a minor who could scare me shitless. I feel like digging a hole and burying myself there if that could be a way of escape.

Suddenly, a flash of black further ahead causes the heels of my feet to dig deep into the ground. Naturally, I slip, again, and fall down to my rear, before scurrying behind the nearest corner. A guy leaning next to that same spot gives me a weird look, which I return with the universal sign: please be quiet!

I am sweating like crazy, thinking that the devil kid has somehow managed to track me down. However, when I see an unfamiliar face of a different Soul Reaper, I let out a sigh and nearly fall back down to the ground. That was scary. My heart is beating rapidly in my chest and cold sweat continues trickling down my back.

"Ya do something?" The stranger standing next to me asks leisurely.

Like from a switch, my mind wanders back minutes ago, when I threw that pile of mud on that boy's – young man's – face. Involuntarily, I cringe. "Yeah, probably."

I look back around the corner and frown when the man dressed in dark corners a random person who is in the middle of selling trinkets. The latter is obviously uncomfortable, but his jaw keeps on moving up and down, as they speak. The sight makes my brain compare the scene immediately with what happened to me just a while ago and I frown in envy. Phantom pain and pressure on my back return, the longer I stare.

"Do you happen to know why there are a bunch of Soul Reapers lurking around the place?"

The man shrugs and scratches his backside. "Who knows. They came this morning and keep spreading. Probably searching for something."

Or someone.

I do not tear my eyes away from the scene but do recall the short conversation – if you can call speaking while being manhandled a conversation – I had with that young Soul Reaper. He had not given any reason, but he had been asking for a person. Ake… muchu… No, it was Ake-something. Ugh! I bite down on my lower lip, cursing the short-term memory.

One thing is for certain. I would have to be careful not to run into trouble for a while, at least. A thief, I almost scoff and start walking, fearing that someone might tackle me down, again. This is what I get from trying to be a model citizen – bruises and taste of dirt.

"I'm back," I say tiredly, as soon as I have parted the thin grey cloth serving as the entrance door into the small building I call 'home'. There is barely any furniture, but the soup in a black pot is waffling its scent everywhere. It is a much warmer smell compared to what lingers outside.

A stray cat, which is not an unusual sight here, waltzes in right after me. It is completely black, and a frown mars my face from seeing it jump near the boiling food. Seven years of bad luck, was it? The feline flicks its tail innocently and I sit down near it sluggishly. Now that I think about it, I have bad luck, to begin with. The thought does not lift my mood and I lay down on the hard surface.

From this position, I do not see anything else from the ceiling but can hear how the blanket in the corner shifts and clothes begin to rustle. A loud yawn is the only warning before two heavy feet stomp against the wooden floor and disturb the false sense of peace.

A groan later, I turn to my side to see a younger woman sit down near the pot. "Ain't you a bit too – ack! You look terrible!"

"Thanks," I say back with fake cheerfulness, wiping away the mud on my face, but without a doubt end up spreading it. "Nice hair, by the way."

Sophie blows a light strand hanging directly in front of her face and crosses her legs, giving my form a scrutinizing look. "Don't change the subject. What happened? Need me to beat sense into somebody?"

I shake my head and go back to lying with my face facing the ceiling. "Nah. It was nothing… By the way, what have I said about leaving the food unsupervised? You could lift the entire house on fire like this, you know."

"I have got this, woman," she raises her hands up in a dramatic manner and then pokes the soup with a wooden spoon. As she does so, the kimono loosely tied around her waist starts to drop starting from her shoulders. A bit grumpily, no doubt from still being too sleepy, she corrects it and goes back to stirring.

It is far fancier kimono than what anyone else wears around these parts. It has vibrant colors of navy blue and red flowers patterning the hem and sleeves. The red sash in the middle only makes it more obvious that the entire package wasn't what just anyone could afford. It should be worn by someone from a different district, maybe a real lady who has powdered face and red lips. Still, Sophie manages to make it all suit her, despite the not so graceful movements and otherwise rough mannerism.

Once the fire dies out, Sophie stands up again and walks to her private corner. There isn't anything really private about it, though and I watch silently as she starts combing her hair. It is one thing that makes her differ slightly from the rest of the people around here, one trait that makes her someone easy to be recognized.

"New clothes?" I finally ask out of nagging curiosity and reach out for the bowls. The bottom of my stomach is already cramping, and drool starts forming when I reach out to take some soup.

"Yup. Kazama-kun said he thought of me when he saw this," she chuckles and tugs on the long sleeve. "Honestly, I do not think I could wear this out there. Someone might actually try and rob me." Her dark brown eyes – contrast to the lightness of her hair – slide to me on the small cracked mirror set on her table. The valley splits her face in two. "Would you like to have it?"

The question sends my heart beating fast and I nearly choke on the soup. The offer is unexpected. My own gaze moves across the shape and colors of the kimono in slowly growing greed and I wet my lower lip in anticipation. After wearing rags for so long, hardly ever seeing any decent material, the innocent question is too tempting. However, that excitement dies just as slowly as it begins, like a candle that is growing weak flickers for the last time.

My attention returns back down to the murky colored soup. "Didn't know you want me to get beaten out in the street."

It wouldn't suit me anyway.

Sophie laughs from the mental image and turns back to check on her appearance. "Don't worry, though. I won't be wearing this for too long. I can sell it and get food on the table for a while. Maybe then we can all take a slight break from our jobs and spend some special sisterhood time!"

I do appreciate the thought of more food and days with breaks. I am eating absentmindedly, but a frown still manages to tighten my facial muscles. "What about the guy?"

The blond waves her hand dismissingly, expression hidden by her mass of hair. "It isn't like I asked him to buy me anything. If someone gives you a gift, it is permission to do as you please with that gift."

"… But he likes you, right?"

"I suppose so," she sighs in an exasperated manner and turns fully around. "But enough of that. I want to hear why you are looking like you ran through Ume-san's backyard and still managed to escape."

The food almost gets stuck in my throat and I give a nervous smile with a cough. The act does little and brown eyes narrow in skepticism. I have not yet set sight on myself. The mirror behind my housemate is inviting me to take a peek, but my behind is glued to the ground. Swirling the soup with a spoon seems to be much interesting out of nowhere. Telling that someone she lives with has insulted – and maybe even slightly assaulted – an authority figure – age is just a number with Soul Reapers apparently – does not sound like anything I should let escape from my mouth. Truthfully, at first, I thought that talking out of that situation had been for the best. Throwing a bunch of mud on that kid's face had not been in my plans. I did get away mostly unscathed, though.

Slowly, as if dealing with an animal that could pounce, I set the bowl aside and stat inching towards Sophie's desk. I am really starting to become curious about what kind of damage I have gotten. I ran through the streets, so nobody else has brought it up. There are some dull aching and tightness on the right cheek which met with the hard ground when I was pushed, or more like thrown, down. A bruise will more likely form there. And my clothes, which didn't look too great, to begin with, are slightly covered in dark earth and mud.

I can't look that bad, right?

Seeing where I am going, the blond scoots herself off to the side, making room for me to take her former seat. Her expression from before was interesting enough, so that must mean…

On the cracked surface, my eyes blink owlishly back and slowly my jaw drops. "I look…" the words get stuck in my throat, "like a troll."

The description earns a cackle. "Nice way of putting it!"

The right side of the face is mostly covered in dried up mud. Smudges and lines created by fingers that had desperately attempted to remove the dirt have only managed to further spread it to the bridge of the nose. That's not all, though. Some ends of the hair have been coated in the same mud decorating the cheeks and thin strands stick to it. The mass of spiky brown locks reaching the chin has no control. The dark dirt has only made it worse. And I start wondering how I missed all of this the longer my half-cracked reflection stares at me. Mortification soon shoots up my spine as I realize that I had just run through a sea of people looking like this.

Then, the emotions of embarrassment are replaced with growing irritation. An image of the very one who had created this state I am in flashes in my memories through Sophie's still-constant snickers. The youthful face twisted into a scowl, the surprisingly rock-like grip and pressure on her back… he had looked so thin but easily flipped me down. Despite how a scowl of my own starts to form on the mirror, a shiver travels down my back.

"Sophie-chan," I start gradually, not moving my eyes from my face," if someone tries restraining you, how do you throw them off?"

"Hm? Someone attacked you?" She asks and moves closer. I do not see it but feel how her eyes look at me up and down to see hidden damage. "You okay?"

"It was… a misunderstanding," I say carefully reach out to wipe the excess brown smudges across my cheek with my sleeve. "But I do not want to go through that again."

Surprisingly, the young girl reaches out her hand and touches tenderly my wrist. I look down to see a reddish mark surrounding it. "It was a man, right?"

I shake my head, feeling a sense of vulnerability surrounding me from her touch. The mark is large, and I shudder unconsciously. It is frightening how someone with such a young voice and body has such large palms.

"I need to get into shape," is finally what comes out of my mouth.

Sophie raises one eyebrow. It isn't judging, but her brown eyes look at me meaningfully. "Didn't I tell you months ago how dangerous it is even during the daytime? What part of the town were you at, anyway?"

"You know that I don't take things seriously enough unless something serious happens. Besides, I wasn't anywhere dangerous; it was at the stalls' area."

"Wow. People get crazier by the day," she sighs and then crosses her arms. Strands of long blond hair slide down against her shoulder and reach her crossed knees. One look at my calm expression makes her sigh for the second time. "Fine. I will show you some moves."

I grin gratefully and stand up with her. "Thanks, Sophie-chan. You're an angel."

She snorts, but otherwise doesn't comment and looks over at my form. "How did he hold you?"

"He got me from the back," I start and gaze down at my wrist. The grip had been crushing and his weight had nearly made it hard to breathe. "He pushed me down and twisted my arm back. Then he also drove an elbow down near my spine."

"That might bruise later," the blond comments and moves behind me. Unlike the Soul Reaper, when she grips my wrist the hold is loose and gentle. She is not him, but a slight and very small sense of panic does fill my chest from the familiarity of human heat behind my back. She doesn't care if the brand-new kimono gets soiled by the filth clinging to me.

"Your other hand was free, right?" She asks and from a mute nod, she continues. "Good. Even if someone tries pinning you down, you can use your free arm, hips, and legs. You must do it quickly, though. Think of a way to distract the person. Like this," Sophie takes a hold of my right hand and bends it over my shoulder until the tips of the fingers touch the side of her face. "You can hit their face or try even aiming for the eyes, if possible and if you're lucky. Use that surprise as a way to push them off and struggle. Another way is to go with the flow so to say," she moves the right hand back forward and pulls it to the left until I am fully turned around. My right hand is pulled then towards her face. "If you're on the ground, this would be harder. You will have to use all of your strength to turn slightly around, but it will work."

The explanation and demonstration are a relief. Back in that alley, there wasn't much hope for me to begin with. But apparently, I did what was needed. I distracted with that desperation of mine and thrown the mud. A temptation of telling Sophie this crosses my mind and the corners of my lips start forming a smile, but then the buzzing pride shimmers from the sight of unnatural spots against tanned collarbone.

She notices where my gaze has wandered off to. The hand holding my wrist let's go and reaches out to cover the damaged area.

Then, she chuckles and leans closer. "Don't worry. Those are called love bites."

Again, for the second time today, someone much younger than me manages to make age just a number. I blush and look away immediately. "I-I know that."

"Would you like some, as well, Mira-san?" The blond has turned into a conniving fox and leans closer, her shorter-build does not matter much anymore.

Horrified, I try back away only to have her follow and continue keeping her grip on my arm. "S-sophie! Let go! Not funny!"

Mirth dances behind her brown orbs. "I can make this funny."

"Gaah!"

"Um?" The questioning sound is soft and much quieter than the rest of the noises, but it does make us freeze on the spot. "Sophie-san, Mira-san, can I ask what you are doing?"

Both of our heads snap towards the entrance where the black cat has loitered to. It has been so silent until now that its existence has almost been forgotten. It is rubbing against a pale leg as a thin hand reaches out to give a small piece of fish for it to eat. The street feline accepts it and the stroking on the back that follows during the eating.

Large purple eyes look up and break the shocked state I and Sophie have been left in. Our hands let each other go and I take a few tentative steps back. The blond let's out a small laugh, mostly at me from rubbing the back of my head bashfully. We must be quite a sight, because those same eyes narrow in gentle laughter and the new arrival straightens up, smoothing down pale-colored clothes.

Without hesitation, I jump down from the wooden floor to the lower ground and run behind the cat and another young girl. She looks at me questioningly with a small smile, as I peek over her thin shoulder. The expression drops a bit when she takes in my appearance.

"Hisana-chan, I am being assaulted!"

The night isn't silent. It almost never is around these parts. At least as long as I have stayed here. It is always the same with far-away cries, yells and boisterous laughter from some cheap alcohol shop nearby. Silence in these parts is a luxury, the one that I want and can't have. Briefly, my eyes would flicker shut but would jump open and wide the moment there is a weird noise. Not only that but waking up to a numb or aching limb from a hard surface is not what motivates further shut-eye.

This is, however, one of my usual nights. I am sitting near the window. Head leaning against a cold wall, I have closed my eyes and listen further what is happening outside. Someone curses in the distance, another starts an obvious drunken wailing and finally a plate s shattered down a street from this house.

Sighing quietly under my breath, I stand up and peek out from under the curtain. It's almost pitch black if it weren't for the stars.

"You can't sleep?" A voice asks from behind and Hisana sits up. "Does your cheek hurt?"

"No, and you don't seem to be catching sleep either," I say and sit back down, facing her. Still, I resist an urge to touch the large scratch mark left by small stones on earth that have been revealed under the mud from earlier today. Water has managed to clean it up, but the skin had been angry red the last time I saw it, thin pieces of skin hanging limply. That brat… didn't anyone ever teach him not to be rough with ladies?

"Would you like something to eat?" She asks and quietly walks towards the window to sit down under it. Our shoulders touch.

I shake my head and look into the dark, feeling her purplish eyes analyzing my face. But then my stomach lets out a low growl. I cover it with my hands. "It is fine. We need to save for tomorrow."

"Yes, I guess you are right."

"… how was work?" The question is the kind that I ask almost every day. It becomes useful when wanting to break a silence.

"Tachibana-san said that my clothes sold well today," she answers with a hint of pride.

I hum and lean further back so that the back of my head collides with the wall. With an exasperated sigh, I pout. "You're so lucky to have such a boss – mine smacked me over the head today."

A chuckle. "Genji-san sure is energetic."

"Savage is more like it."

Hisana chuckles again and we settle into silence. This happens very rarely. Unlike me, the young girl is not the kind to just randomly wake up in the middle of the night. But when that does happen, she always keeps me company until she is too tired and falls asleep. The act always makes me smile a bit, but it is also worrisome. I am far more used to staying awake and getting smaller doses of sleep. She will be exhausted if she doesn't go back to bed soon enough. Even Sophie, who sleeps during the day and works at night knows this – she wouldn't want that happening to Hisana either.

Compared to the black-haired girl, we are far more childish, regardless of the fact that she is the youngest. Her appearance is that of a teenager while Sophie is older than her and younger than me. The thought always makes me confused, though. Last time I checked, it is the one sitting next to me who acts like a mother and I the child.

Hold on. Am I not insulting myself with this?

"Is something the matter, Mira-san?"

I turn to look at her. Even in the dark, her eyes are as clear and stare right into my soul. "H-huh? What do you mean?"

"You're frowning," she says and then her voice takes a concerned turn. "From what you told me, is it safe for you to go out tomorrow? Maybe you should take a break. I can go and tell Genji-san of your absence."

There it is again. The concern and worried tone, just like the kind that belongs to a maternal parent. It had come down on me with a full blow when I had half-told her what I told our blond friend. She had offered to help clean my face and clothes. And even was ready to give up the share of her own food, despite being obviously hungry and tired.

Her working place is on the other side of town from mine. So that means she would also have to make a long and early walk there. That would be the last thing I would want to bother my consciousness. Her offer is tempting, though. Another scenario that I will not be too happy to go through with is meeting with that hard-faced Soul Reaper again. He looked to be around Hisana's age, but their personalities couldn't be more different. It is like comparing a sweet flower in a flourishing field with a grey and hard rock at the bottom of a valley.

I am becoming more and more certain that I would sooner jump into a pile of sweaty and dirty laundry than face-off that brat again. No matter how irritated the memory of him and his accuses make me. Or maybe I should make him taste his own medicine? A plot of actually finding him and staging a crime pop into my head, but they fade almost as soon as I look back at Hisana. She is clearly worried. Like Sophie, she is also completely unaware that a Soul Reaper is the one who took me down. But the anxious expressions I saw today was enough to make me keep my mouth shut and it still does.

I should get rid of this heavy atmosphere for now. For both of our sakes.

"Give me your hand."

She makes a confused sound, but soon I feel her tiny fingers land on mine. For probably the second time, in this dark and cold place, her expression and gaze are crystal clear – she is puzzled. But then that turns into amusement she lets out a small giggle. The sound is but a very faint bell in the middle of Rukon District.

"Are you going to be reading my fortune once again?" She asks innocently and I place my other hand on top of hers. She squeezes back fondly.

I do not say a word. I flip her hand to trace the lines on her palm. Those paths are not visible to my eyes, though. The tips of my fingers merely go wherever they feel there is a change in texture. Still, though, I make a sound of deep concentration and close my eyes, stopping my tracing.

All of sudden, it is just the two of us. The sounds coming from the outside don't bother me as much as before.

"I see… that your future husband will be big, dark and handsome in a few decades."

Even though he will always be an arrogant jerk.

When one day is hectic and has a few misfortunes, you would think that the next day will be a quiet and normal one. That is what I wished yesterday. In fact, I took the trouble of even taking a different route this morning to my job to avoid attention and possible tracking.

Everything has been going on so peacefully…

"You heartless cruel kitty-butcher! How can you assault your only employee like this with your own merchandise!? Turn yourself to the authorities and explain yourself!"

"Quiet you! If you have endangered this establishment of mine in any shape or form, suffer the consequences!"

"I am the victim here!"

"Your actions could cost me my entire shop! My fortune! My family heirloom!"

"What fricking heirloom!? You started this business two years ago!"

"Don't question my words, stupid underling!"

"Who is the stupid one here!? Stop wasting water!"

"I ordered not to question me!"

"I'm injured!"

"Don't care!"

Ah, there is the sweet sound of a wonderful relationship between the worker and boss. It is so common during this street that most ignore it as they pass by. Even my sense of shame and modesty are wiped clean when blood starts packing into my skull with one go. The reason being that I have to dodge flying vases while yelling at an older man.

But like during any other argument we have had, it stops after a while. In the end, we are both panting, shoulders hunched down and eyes sharply focused on each other in heated glares. The sight is kind of funny. A greying old man with sticks as limbs and a taller younger woman with hair in disarray sweating and throwing insults at every turn. What is not funny is the pile of shards from brown ceramics used to hold the drinking water that earns me my salary. And now that sweet golden liquid has been splattered all over the floor. For such an aged man, Genji sure has a good throwing hand, as proven by the destruction around me.

Keep calm. He will twist that old back of his and stop soon enough, the voice in my head tries reasoning with me, but my fists are shaking at my sides. I just have explained patiently and with great gravity, the events that took place yesterday and my injuries and this is how he reacts?

It is obvious – he is a money-grabbing, heartless old-fart.

Finally, the old man looks away sharply with a huff and starts arranging the vases – the ones he hasn't thrown at me – in front of his stand. "Go and get some more water from the river."

"Huh?" I could get a stroke at any second, but he is obvious to it. "I just did earlier this morning!"

A vein on his neck pops out. "And now our stock has run out!"

"Whose fault is that?" I ask back, gritting my teeth with every bit of tolerance left, and gesture down at the carnage. "You are the one who threw these at me!"

Absently, Genji picks his nose. "Is that right? I distantly remember hiring a helper to take care of the stock amount – you know, with my poor old bones and aching limbs all considered."

"If you can still toss a few pound vases then you're obviously fine," I mutter, not wanting him to start another row with me, especially, if that means more work for me. Even though it takes a considerable amount of self-restraint to lower my volume.

"Hm? Did you say something?"

"Nothing!" I run to the back and grab an empty container before walking back out. "I will be back soon!"

"Yeah, yeah," he waves over his shoulder nonchalantly as another customer walks towards his stand.

Knowing that it will be another scolding session, if not taken care of immediately, I start running down a familiar road. It is an effort not to stumble and fall, due to small rocks prickling the bottoms of my feet with every step. Besides my short-tempered and unreasonable employer, there is another unpleasant aspect of this job – the water fetching trip. It just happens that the shop is at the top of a hill and I have to climb it back up with a new weight in my hands every time.

Honestly, even if I know Genji's personality to this point, I would have expected a bit of sympathy from him. Throwing dangerous objects at an injured woman… what a brute. The one thing he seemed to be concerned about was if that same Soul Reaper who gave me the scratches and bruises would come and tear down his business. The thought of that happening actually makes me snort a bit.

As if that scrawny thing could do that… right? Threatening civilians is not acceptable, right? He wouldn't think about going after my head, right? I start shivering from imagining the scenarios. There is really no telling which one is worse. Me getting beaten up by that same black-haired youngster or getting a vase thrown at the head by my boss. The latter would mean getting fired and not being able to pay for the food. It is the one and the only thing I am not prepared to give up with! I and the girls will have less sustenance to fill ourselves with if our shared income is cut short.

My gut churns from the thought of it being empty more frequently than normal. Those times would be the utmost horrible. I unconsciously touch my stomach and start shaking my head in denial.

No, there is no possible way for me to be able to confront that brat if it could come to that. I would have to be very careful with how I move around the town for a while, indeed. Keeping low during headbutting with Genji and avoiding going outside seem like reasonable options.

Hold on. Why should I run from a kid like him? An authority figure my butt! I am bigger, I am stronger, Sophie-chan showed me how to take care of –

My thoughts are cut off. Near the end where the shore of the river streaming through the city is, I stumble over a few rocks and fall flat down. The container in my hands is thrown away in the process and it starts rolling further down the hill and towards the waters. Instantly, my eyes widen and panic surges through me like that river through the canal. The current in this part is particularly strong.

"No, no, no, no! Don't you dare!" I scream particularly at nobody and bolt after it, ignoring the stinging on my knees. There will be no end for the smacking I would get if I lose this container.

Unfortunately for me, it makes it to the stone stairs and starts dropping down each step until it reaches the water. It starts drifting immediately – the panic grows. Instead of facing more misfortune, though, with a few strides, my feet touch the sharp cold water and I reach out for the object floating away. Goosebumps and shudders cover my body from feeling a numbness spreading below my knees, but even so, a relieved sigh comes out of my mouth.

Got it!

Already in the water, I push the container down so that the liquid pours in. I watch, pushing away my bangs and soaking my forehead with it. The cold feels refreshing, and I splatter some more while keeping the hold on the container with one hand.

However, every peaceful moment and feeling always comes to an end.

As I am about to reach out for more water to wash my sweaty face, I freeze from the sight of red trails on the shining surface of my reflection. It's startling, but I immediately dread where it is from. My fingers are already under the water and the red moves with the liquid around them. If my eyes weren't wide open and frozen to stare down at the sight, I wouldn't be able to differentiate anything wrong in the water. It feels cold, just like it has always been.

Immediately, I pull my hand away and run back to the shore, water splattering around me, soaking the hem of my kimono. When I look back down, both the water and color red have stained the light fabric. The blood drains from my face.

The container's weight has doubled since adding water into it. But now that I am standing on slippery rocks of the stairs, the amount grows and the thing slips from my hands, clattering and emptying itself on the ground. Still, I remain as stiff as a rod and feel how the beats of my heart quicken their rhythm. Finally, those drumming sounds fill my ears and my gaze slowly follows the trail of crimson. It is like watching oil trying to mix in together with water.

I suddenly feel cold and it has nothing to do with how I almost took a dip in the river.

People are starting to gather upon a bridge and the edges of the river as if also noticing the strange shift in the mass of water. The whispers and gasps barely reach my ears, though.

Blood.

Something is coming down from the stream. It is the very source of the red color staining the water and now my clothes. It isn't nearly as small as the container, but rather large and that is why the river moves it forward at a slow pace. But despite the sensation of coldness and nausea in the deepest part of my gut, I wish for a moment that the thing would flow down faster so that I could take a closer look at it.

Even from the distance, the amount of red seeping from the lump floating in the water is enormous. I could tell what it is from a single glance, but my mind remains in a healthy – I think it's healthy – denial. Truly, I think I am even pretty calm on the outside… but why are my hands trembling?

Unlike what someone would expect, I do not start screaming – the voice is stuck in my throat. I also am not losing my consciousness and fainting – I am too numb, to begin with.

Floating in the water is a mutilated corpse.