People from all walks of life populated the busy city streets of Yokohama, bustling here and there as they went about their own business, seemingly oblivious to the inner turmoil of Japan’s governmental affairs. Children darted in and out among the throngs excitedly, calling to each other playful insults. Women in the latest fashions window-shopped, their boyfriends rolling their eyes with soft grumbles as their beloveds would find something to exclaim over and, of course, buy. Happy couples walked hand-in-hand beneath the warm, midday sun and blue sky, with eyes only for each other. Vendors called from their small stands on the large sidewalks, trying their hardest to entice shoppers with colorful slogans that were more often than not only an annoying deterrent. Everyone had their own lives to live, and they didn’t often look beyond such.

            Indeed, that was how most of them survived, by pretending ignorance, for in a world such as that, ignorance truly was bliss. The less a person knew, the safer they were, and safety meant happiness. Human life had been cheapened by war and the hard times before the War had forced technology’s advancement, which in turn served to drag a once-struggling economy out of the proverbial dust.

            A spot of red hair mingled among the crowd, taller than most yet not a bit out of place. It belonged to a tall, slim, Japanese male clad in simple clothes of faded jeans, black tee-shirt, and a pair of brown hiking boots. Sunglasses, darkly tinted, hid his chocolate-colored eyes from the prying gaze of the world just like a light, dark-red jacket hid a small pistol strapped to his side securely. He paused briefly, gaze drawn to a window display of pretty evening gowns as if he might have been perusing any one of them for a girlfriend or wife.

            Girlfriend, more than likely, as there was the absence of a wedding band on his ring finger.

            Turning away from the window, the redhead meandered gradually to a rather large group of people patiently waiting to cross the street.

            To his right, a teenage girl chattered with her friends; to his left, an older gentleman checked his watch then looked warily at the light that would allow them to cross the street during a lull in the seemingly endless traffic. Directly in front of him was his target.

            A young man, slender and nearly androgynous, swayed and bopped to the music blaring through his headphones. His hair was done into a pile of braids streaked in pink and blue, his leather pants sat low on his hips and his black shirt rode above his stomach, revealing soft, caramel skin.

            A real lady killer who would have lived long, had he not gotten involved with the Kurari-yaku, of course.

            Slowly, without drawing attention to himself, the tall redhead slipped the pistol out of its holster and moved subtly closer to the dancing man, pretending to press close in anticipation of the changing light and to make more room for more people so that the entire sidewalk wasn’t blocked. Cautiously he pressed the nozzle of the gun ever-so-lightly to the back of the young man’s neck, just below his skull, sure to keep it just far enough away so that it didn’t alert him.

            The light changed; the people began to walk across the street. Not a second glance was given to the young man with the headphones as he fell limply to sprawl across the concrete, the bullet hole in the back of his neck bleeding as his eyes watched the feet around him with a glassy, dead stare.

            Putting the pistol back in its holster, the redhead stepped off the curb into the street with the rest of them. One hand lifted to touch the miniscule earpiece hidden beneath his hair.

            “It’s done,” was his simple statement.

            “Good job, Die.”

            The one called ‘Die’ allowed his hand to slip away as the voice in his ear buzzed then died away, leaving silence, as his eyes wandered over to those crossing the street in the opposite direction.

            A pair of dark, amber eyes locked with his through the sunglasses; silky strands of brunette hair fell around a pale face of soft, creamy skin and pouting yet intelligent features. Time seemed to slow down then stop as the redhead and the brunette eyed each other before the spell was broken by the smaller of the two ducking their head down to whisper a soft, nearly-inaudible ‘excuse me’ and brushing past the redhead quickly.

            Time returned to its normal flow as Die reached the other side of the street and stepped up onto the curb.

 

            Loud music and general chaos greeted Die as he stepped inside K-Third. He blinked a bit behind the ever-present sunglasses as an incredibly-drunk couple staggered his way, wailing nonsense about this and that and Lord knew what else; instinctively the redhead opened the door for them, half-turning to crane his head as the two staggered out onto the sidewalk. Then with a snort, he shook his head, rolled his eyes, and set off to thread his way through the dancing patrons to reach the bar. Taking his customary seat on one of the corner stools, a quick look around took note of those who were there before he turned to the stoic bartender.

            Known for his fox hat—apparently the man wasn’t an Animal Rights Activist, as the pelt of a dead fox adorned his top hat—the man’s name was Kaoru to any who knew him well enough, which were so few. Relatively new to the club as the bartender, his arrival had resulted in an increase in violence, though the Kuraris never seemed to notice; so long as he kept the music playing, the lights flashing, and their bodies filled with whatever poisons they ordered, they truly didn’t care too much. Stern, dark eyes that glittered within the shadows presented by the hat turned to fix the gaze that had even the regulars a bit nervous on Die, giving him the silent question that he gave everyone who ventured to the bar.

            ‘What will it be?’ Every day it was the same, wasn’t it.

            “The usual, ‘Tender” was Die’s cocky answer, followed by such a winning smile. The faintest rolling of the eyes was visible beneath the hat yet no protest was made as Kaoru got an ice-cold bottle of beer. After taking a brief moment to open said bottle, the liquor was set down before the redhead on top of a carefully-folded napkin. Quickly Die picked up the bottle and took a long drink of the poisonous liquid, his free hand snatching up the napkin to pocket it discreetly, sure to hide it from the eyes of others.

            Wouldn’t do for those around to know he’d been paid for his ‘services’, much more what exactly those ‘services’ might be.

            With a loud yawn, Die leaned back against the bar, relaxing on his elbows, dark-chocolate gaze watching the dancers on the floor. A few good-looking ladies caught his attention, dancing in a bunch, yet given the way they were feeling up on each other, they had to be lesbians.

            It was always the good-looking ones who were lesbians.                                           

            Rolling his eyes a bit, the redhead turned back around on his stool, arms folding on the bar’s countertop, and settled to just watch the bartender do his work. It wasn’t much interesting, but it was enough to keep him from dying of boredom, at least.

            A figure moved to his right, taking a seat next to him at the bar and leaned forward to speak with Kaoru. Die turned his head just slightly, and received a pleasant surprise.

            It was a pretty woman, her lithe figure clothed in a long, elegant evening gown of dark, sparkling sequins that glittered in the lighting of the club. A boa of soft feathers colored a gentle black and red hung around her neck, obscuring her chest subtly, preventing anyone from having a look—the redheaded assassin was sure that the chest was very nice, anyway—and black, satin gloves covered her forearms up to the elbows. She had her hair swept back out of her face—save for the fringe of bangs hanging over her pale forehead—and Die could tell that it had been bleached from black to make way for a pretty brunette. Delicate makeup decorated her face, nothing too showy but enough to make her stand out in a place of outlandish colors and bold styles.

            She looked as if she belonged at the side of a wealthy, older gentleman in an English club, gambling and dancing to classical music, rather than in a club full of drunkards and drug addicts with heavy music designed to keep the adrenaline pumping through their bodies.

            In any case, Die watched her lean back with a soft smile to Kaoru, her hands delicately folded in her lap, and though he was no horny monster by any means, he found himself wanting her and wondering if she already had a boyfriend or a husband, or perhaps if she was a pricey whore.

            Probably a pricey whore. Why else would she be dressed like that?

            Yet Die found himself dismissing those thoughts as she turned her dark-amber gaze to him, eyes perfectly-shaped by a pure-Japanese heritage. Her expression was intelligent and innocent at the same time, untainted by harsh times, it seemed.

            Die licked his lips, then returned the demure smile she gave him with a nod before watching her take the drink Kaoru had set before her. He could see her lean forward to whisper a quiet ‘thank you’ and press a light kiss to the bartender’s cheek before sliding off her stool to make her silent way through the mass of flesh toward the Plexiglas room of the Kuraris.

            So she’s a Kurari? Must be one of their whores.

            “No, Die, she’s not a Kurari and she isn’t a whore,” Kaoru stated. If Die wasn’t so used to Kaoru doing that, he would have stared at him. Kaoru always seemed to know what he was thinking.

            “Oh yeah? Hm…Whose is she?” the redhead asked.

            “No one’s. Stop thinking hentai thoughts, asshole.”

            “Do you know her, then?” Die prodded at the man lightly. Kaoru jerked away quickly with a frown.

            “Maybe, maybe not. Stop loitering and bothering me,” he grumbled, moving away to leave Die staring in the direction of the Plexiglas room. He could see the woman seated inside, surrounded by Kuraris of different genders. One Kurari in particular was the closest, the one that Die knew to be Toshiya. The Cyborg’s arm was around the woman’s slender waist possessively, holding her close to him, as he leaned close to kiss and lick her neck. She didn’t seem to be enjoying it, but she didn’t push him away. She merely sat there silently, staring into her little glass of alcoholic beverage. As he watched, she shifted a bit, and one slender leg moved to cross over the other, revealing a pale thigh of creamy skin through the slit in her dress. Toshiya took the opportunity to slip his free hand along the leg and up under her dress; her head shot up, those dark eyes widening before fluttering closed.

            Die quickly focused on Toshiya.

            The Cyborg was as androgynous as ever, dressed in revealing clothes that lined his every curve—fishnet, leather, feathers, he had it all somewhere on his form. His black hair—raven beneath the lights—was gathered in a style similar to the woman’s, his black eyes lined in rich makeup of black and purple hues that matched his lips. He continued his assault on the perfect skin of the woman’s neck as his hand continued its work beneath her skirt; she seemed to enjoy it, though Die could tell that it was only an act.

            Was the Cyborg so stupid that he couldn’t tell?

            Suddenly, time seemed to stop as Die’s gaze was drawn over to the blonde at Toshiya’s side, the opposite side as the pretty woman, and he quickly found himself unable to look away from those dead, emotionlessly-black eyes.

            It was as if Kyo—he knew it was Kyo from stories and files he’d hacked into—could see into his soul and read his mind, yet Kyo gave no signs as to what he knew. He was merely staring at the redhead, refusing to allow the eye contact to be broken.

            Die shivered a bit, and after what seemed like an eternity, the spell was over. Time returned to normal, and Kyo—

            Kyo was gone.