2012
Outside of the Hospital
A few minutes earlier
8:29 PM
*Srrrch*
Yoru gently pressed down on the Honda Accord's brakes, bringing the car to a soft stop in front of a non-descript clinic. The building looked like any Japanese hospital, but the assassin stopped here for a reason.
The teenager pulled out her phone. The screen lit up and displayed the current time of 8:29 before advancing to 8:30 moments later. Perfect, the establishment is open for business. The clinic staff usually kick out those unaffiliated with the Continental a half-hour beforehand, so there wouldn't be a problem if Yoru strolled through the lobby.
The hitwoman undid her seatbelt and opened the vehicle's door. She stepped outside of the vehicle, pushing her palm against the car roof to stabilize herself.
Yoru winced once her foot touched the concrete. Her movement jostled the bullets embedded in herself, agitating blood that had clotted minutes prior. Fresh red spots soaked through the bandages from the car's first aid kit hastily wrapped around her wounds minutes prior.
Her mental map of the area around the clinic had come in handy. Relying on GPS to navigate an area with extremely spotty internet connection is just taking on another variable out of her control.
Every second mattered when it came to gunshot wounds. Each second spent on wrangling google maps brought her closer and closer to hypovolemic shock. She had bought herself time with first aid, but she only had so much blood to lose.
Yoru took a shaky breath before she started limping toward the hospital. Her phone chimed as a notification came in, but the teen ignored it. Whatever it was, it could wait until she has a normal amount of tungsten in her body.
After several dozen more arduous steps – each sending another white-hot shock through her system – the girl finally reached the hospital's entrance. She pushed open the doors with her shoulder, grabbing onto the steel door frame for support and not collapsing into the lobby.
"Miss Wick," The assassin took in a few shaky breaths as the receptionist called out her name. "Would you like some assistance?"
"No," The hitwoman shook her head. "I'm fine, Shizuka. Is Doc in?"
"Ozawa-san is free right now." That's all the teenager needed to hear.
"Miss Wick," the woman called out when Yoru attempted to move toward the front desk. "Please, not a step further."
"Why?" The girl tilted her head while the door clicked shut behind her. The clinic had never denied her service before.
"We have a code yellow." The hitwoman nodded in understanding. "Some visitors are staying overtime."
Code yellow meant that there was a civilian staying past the usual hours. That was probably what the notification on her phone was warning her about.
"Gotcha." Yoru started to turn around. "I'll he-"
"Y… Yoru?" The assassin froze. "I… Is that really you?"
'No…' Her breath hitched. 'It can't be her…'
Even though her brain knows that she shouldn't, the teenager slowly swiveled her head toward where the voice came from. She dared to hope that she just misheard. She dared to hope the high pitched voice she heard was a result of a badly-timed hallucination.
But – as Yoru's luck usually goes – that's not the case. Her ears were too sharp to mishear anything and she hasn't had a hallucination in months. The girl locked eyes with the last person she wanted to see. Her twin sister, Ai Hoshino.
"Yoru…" The idol's eyes widened. "You're… You're bleeding!"
The hitwoman's mind kicked into overdrive when her sibling took a step forward. Her eyes darted all around the lobby, trying to look for something – anything – that can help her escape the situation.
She cannot let Ai interact with her any further, she mustn't. There is no circumstance where the entertainer should be exposed to the underworld, to the dark pit of quicksand that so many find themselves consumed by. The teenager won't forgive herself if she endangered her little sister – however inadvertently – like that.
"But you already failed at that, didn't you?" A voice whispered when Yoru's gaze fell upon her sister's stomach. "She saw you. You can never take that back."
"And it's not just her anymore," The assassin backed up just as her sister advanced. "You've also jeopardized the life that's growing inside her as well. A child whose only crime is sharing blood with you."
The teen continued to back away until her back hit the hospital's doors.
"Yoru, please." Ai's eyes were pleading, begging her older sister to let her come closer. "Let me help. You don't have to go through whatever it is alone."
"'Go through it alone,' she says." Yoru pursed her lips. "She doesn't know what you are. She doesn't know what you have done. Do you think your little sister will ever see you the same when she finds out?"
The hitwoman doesn't have an answer to that. Instead, she looked up at her younger twin and shook her head.
The idol visibly wilted upon seeing the assassin's non-verbal reply. It hurts to see her sibling like this, but Yoru had no choice. Even if she desperately wants nothing more but to reconnect with her, Ai's safety is – and always will be – far more important. Yoru didn't mind if the pregnant teen hated her so long as she's alive to do so.
The Continental is a machine that takes in fresh bodies and churns out corpses by the thousands. For all its glamor and opulence, it doesn't take much to sweep away the gold and reveal rot. The assassin would be damned if she let the underworld take away her last family member.
"Miss Hoshino." Someone called out from the hall. "I'm so sorry, but I need to ask you some questions for one last form."
It's Gorou, the clinic's gynecologist. He's distracting Ai so Yoru has a chance to slip out. The Wick quietly thanked the doctor and slipped outside when the idol turned around.
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"Hold on just a moment, Sensei!" The teenager turned to face her sister again, but was met with the white paint of the hospital's doors.
The Ai blinked. How was that possible? Yoru was right there! She couldn't have slipped out without making any sort of sound, right? Did she somehow just imagine the whole thing?
The entertainer looked down and… yeap. There's blood smeared on both the door and the floor. She wasn't delusional. Her older sister really did somehow slip out without making a sound.
"Ai?" President Satou – at least, she thinks that's right– called out to her.
"One moment President Satou!" Ai replied before pushing open the door.
"It's Saitou!" Apparently it wasn't.
The idol stepped outside and the cool night air hit her like a tidal wave. There was a metallic scent in the air, coppery and sharp like a scraped pan.
Ai fished out her phone and turned on its flashlight. The beam of light swept across the concrete, highlighting a thin trail of blood that seemed to originate from a Honda. The car was still running, but Yoru was nowhere to be seen.
"AI!" The door behind her burst open to reveal a very distraught Ichigo. "Oh, thank god you're alright."
"Why wouldn't I be, president?" The idol craned her neck to look at him.
"It's just- I saw all the blood and… nevermind." The manager shook his head. "Can I talk to you for a second?"
Ai nodded and the man stepped toward her.
"I think we should get out of here." Ichigo whispered. "This hospital isn't normal!"
The entertainer looked into her guardian's eyes. His chocolate orbs shone with concern, but the teenager couldn't help but disagree.
"No." Ai shook her head.
"... What?" The agency owner blinked. "Why?"
"Do you remember why I wanted to become an idol, president?" The idol inquired.
"Yeah, you said that you'll become famous and…" The blonde's eyes widened in realization. "... use that fame to find your sister."
"I thought you'd forgotten." The entertainer smiled. "Everyone else did when I stopped bringing it up."
"I'm your manager." Ichigo let out a light sigh. "How can I properly take care of you if I can't remember your dreams?"
Ai nodded and focused her gaze on the concrete walkway.
"Ten years." She finally said. "Ten years since I last saw her. Ten years of not knowing if she's alive or not. Now that we finally meet again, she avoids me."
"I'm sorry Ai." The blonde tried to offer his condolences. "I know this isn't how you envisioned how it would go, but-"
"She doesn't hate me, president." The entertainer cut him off.
"Then why else would she avoid you?" The manager was confused. "There aren't many good reasons why someone will go out of their way to avoid another."
"She's scared." Ichigo's eyes widened at her answer.
"If Yoru hates me, then she would've stormed out of the lobby once she saw me." Ai continued. "But, she didn't. She froze."
"But… What was she afraid of?" The teenager softly pondered.
Yoru was always the braver of the two. Yoru would push onward where Ai would have backed off. If she chose to hide, her older sister would choose to confront. From what she could remember from her early childhood, there was little that frightened her.
"Maybe your sister is scared of whoever hurt her that badly?" The agency owner offered.
"Maybe." The idol pivoted her device's flashlight from the concrete walkway to the bushes that surrounded the clinic. "But, I'll ask her myself when I find where she went."
A thin layer of blood that marred the plants' leaves reflected her phone's light. It seems like Yoru chose to go around the hospital instead of just leaving. But, why would she do that? Unless…
Ai started walking toward the bloodied shrubs, but her guardian suddenly grabbed her arm.
"Ai, I really do think we should leave." He reiterated his earlier statement. "Whatever your sister is caught up in, it can't be anything good. If what you said was right, then she probably doesn't want you to be involved in what she's doing."
"President." The teenager turned to look Ichigo in the eyes. "I know you're worried, but this may be my last chance to see her again."
"And besides." She flashed him a smile. "I know Yoru-chan wouldn't let me get hurt."
The blonde's grip on her arm weakened and Ai slipped out of his grasp.
That smile she's shown him wasn't the plastic one she's been trained to do. No, that smile was genuine, an expression born out of joy and confidence instead of hours spent looking into a mirror. He couldn't find it in him to stop her, not when he wasn't sure if he could ever see something like that again.
"Damn you, you shitty idol," Ichigo slapped a hand over his face. "Damn you."
The blonde dragged his palm down his face, breathing in a deep lungful of air once his fingers left his chin. If he can't stop her, then he'll do everything in his power to help her. After all, what kind of manager will he be if he can't do something as simple as making his idols happy?
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*tunk* *tunk*
An aged doctor paused his work when he heard something knock on his window. He waited for a couple of moments before casually turned his chair to investigate the source of the noise.
"Ah, Yoru." His eyes softened in recognition upon seeing a familiar head of purple hair. "Come in."
Yoru slid open the window pane and vaulted into the room.
"Evening, Doc." The assassin greeted the old man as she gently lowered her feet onto the floor. "How have you been doing?"
"From the look of things, better than you." The black market physician retorted. "Come on, have a seat. Or, lay down if someone got you there."
The teenager complied with the surgeon's orders, making her way to one of the nearby chairs. Without any more prompts, the hitwoman took off her jacket and her holster before draping both articles over the seat.
"Where did they get you this time?" Although he could've hazarded a guess based on the darker bloodstains in the improvised bandages, it's still prudent to ask.
"One in my clavicle." Yoru responded while the surgeon retrieved a medical kit. "One in my left thigh and another in my left calf."
"Mhmm." The doctor opened the metal box and laid out some supplies on a cart. "Which one do you think needs the most attention?"
"The one in my neck." The girl replied. "It's bleeding the hardest."
"Alright." The Chinese man pushed the trolley over to Yoru. "Let me see that."
The assassin removed her hand from her neck before unbuttoning her dress shirt. Upon undoing the first three, she adjusted her blouse so none of the fabric covers the wound. The hitwoman then unraveled the bandages she had used to stem the bleeding, unceremoniously dropping it onto the floor.
The doctor instantly got to work, soaking a clean rag in warm water and gently putting pressure on the injury.
Yoru's lips thinned once he began cleaning the wound. The spikes of pain weren't severe enough to get much of a reaction from her, but that didn't mean it felt pleasant.
Once enough dried blood was wiped away, the surgeon picked up a cotton ball and soaked it in alcohol. The teenager took in a breath as the physician disinfected a pair of tweezers.
When the doctor inserted the pincers into the hole in the hitwoman's neck, she hissed in pain. The residual sanitizer burned her exposed flesh and the metal moving around further inflamed the pain.
"Tungsten-core 5.7." The surgeon commented when he pulled the bullet out. "I thought the newer suits stopped those."
"... You didn't get those new suits, did you?" He denoted after Yoru stayed quiet.
"Dad's suit does fine against most things." She justified as the doctor let the removed round fall onto a tray. "There's no need to get a new one."
"Hahh…" The black market physician let out a sigh. "I know how much your father meant to you, Yoru. But, you're forgetting how much you meant to him."
"I know John." He continued as the teenager rolled up her left pant leg. "The last thing he wants is for his daughter to come in and out of a hospital room."
"Dad did just fine with this suit." Yoru murmured, her eyes becoming downcast.
"John would've gotten the newest line of suits the moment they released." The doctor retorted after he undid another bundle of improvised bandages. "Suits and guns can be replaced, but your life couldn't be. You're only sixteen, you have nothing but time on your side. Don't throw your youth away by being careless."
The hitwoman stayed quiet. Only grimacing again once the physician inserted a freshly cleaned pair of tweezers.
"Doc…" The man looked up when the teenager suddenly called out to him. "Do… Do you regret helping Dad and I two years ago?"
"No." The surgeon simply answered. "No, I do not."
"But you had to-" Yoru began.
"Leave my life in New York behind, yeah." He cut the girl off before she could go on a tangent. "But, I don't regret it."
"Living in Japan isn't the worst thing in the world." The physician pulled out the second bullet lodged in her. "The food here is good and the rent around these parts isn't too bad."
"Plus, you already did a lot to help me." He started working on the final bullet in her thigh.
"These old bones aren't getting any younger, and I was really fortunate you convinced your aunt to help me." Yoru hissed when the surgeon pulled out the last bullet. "Being backed by a High Table family staved off the worst of what could've happened."
"Don't assume that people will hate you for whatever happened between you and them." The doctor unfurled a roll of medical gauze. "Some do, some don't. It's not worth stressing over."
The teenager stayed quiet while the surgeon packed the remainder of her wounds with the cloth. After a lot more cutting and wrapping, Yoru's wounds are properly dressed.
"Alright, you're good to go." The physician stood up. "Avoid putting too much pressure on your left leg and you should be good as new in a week."
"Thanks, Doc." Yoru closed up her shirt and rolled down her pants.
"And before you go." The doctor held out an open pill bottle to her. "Take four of these. They should help your wounds close faster."
The hitwoman nodded before taking the plastic container from the older man. She shook out four light green capsules into her hand and threw them into her mouth like mints.
The assassin reared her head back, gulping down the four pills with a slight grimace. She then set the bottle on the cart and began gathering her things.
"Once again doc, thank you." Yoru said as she secured her holster to her belt. "I hope I haven't dirtied the room too much."
"Don't worry about it." The surgeon pressed a button on his computer. "This is a hospital after all. We're prepared to deal with it."
"By the way, can I leave from where I came?" The teenager pointed her thumb at the window she climbed in from.
"Are you sure about that?" The doctor tilted his head. "The lobby should be empty at this point."
"My sister is in this hospital." The hitwoman pensively answered. "I can't risk interacting with her any further."
"And why is that?" The physician questioned.
"She couldn't be exposed to the underworld under any circumstances." Yoru threaded her arms through her suit jacket's sleeves. "I won't be able to forgive myself if I jeopardize her safety."
"… I won't pry into your personal life." The surgeon said after a pregnant pause. "But, I think that you owe her an explanation. Your sister hasn't seen you in quite a long time, she – at the very least – deserves some closure."
The girl lowered her eyes. She couldn't deny the truth in the doctor's words. Ai deserves something from her. If what she observed from her sister's interviews are true, then the greater world thought she's dead.
"...I'll consider it." In the end, she gave out a non-answer. It was a spineless move, and Yoru knows it.
The doctor shook his head as the assassin made her way toward the open window. However, instead of vaulting over it, she froze when she looked outside.
"Doc, I've changed my mind." The teen announced before turning around. "I'd like to go through the lobby please."
The surgeon craned his neck to look at what's behind Yoru. A face identical to that of the young hitwoman stared back. It appears that the assassin's twin has found her.
"She's trying to climb through the window." He candidly informed the teen as her sibling placed her hands on the windowsill.
Yoru whirled around and rushed toward the open window.
"Wait, Ai!" She gently put her hand over her sister's. "Please stop! You're pregnant!"
"Then get out," The idol locked eyes with her twin for the second time in a decade. "And talk to me. For real."
"I…" The assassin opened her mouth, but couldn't get any words out.
"Yoru," The entertainer's voice took on a more dangerous tone. "If you don't get out in five seconds, I'm going inside."
"Five…" Ai began counting. "Four…"
Yoru's eyes widened. But the hitwoman rapidly lost her nerve as her younger twin kept counting down. She accepted her fate and climbed out of the window before the idol could reach two.
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Outside the Clinic
"You know, Yoru-chan, I missed walks like these!" Ai excitedly bounced across the cement walkway. "It's been so long!"
"It… has." The assassin carefully responded. "But, is it truly necessary to hold onto my wrists like that?"
"Heh heh… Look at you talking all fancy like that." The idol humorously chuckles. "Did they teach you that in America?"
"... You didn't answer my question." The older twin levied a look at her sibling.
The entertainer only hummed in response to her sister's words. After a couple more seconds, Yoru stopped walking. Ai turned around, and the two locked eyes.
"You have a bad habit of disappearing, Yoru-chan." Violet met violet, a star met steel. "I'm making sure you can't do that."
The Wick looked down to where her younger sister elected to grab her. She could easily break free. Ai was nowhere as strong as she was. Just one sharp tug, and the idol's grip would fall apart. But, the hitwoman just couldn't find it in herself to do it. Something's stopping her.
Why? Was it the look in the younger twin's eyes? The bubbling pain hidden under shining amethyst, the silent plea for her to not go away again?
"Yoru-chan, please." Ai looked like a kicked dog. "You're avoiding me. I just want to know why."
"I… I can take you not wanting to see me again." The idol almost whimpered. "If it's something I did, then please tell me! I-"
"No, you're not the reason." Yoru cut her sibling off.
"... Ai." The assassin took a deep breath in preparation for what she's about to admit. "I kill people."
"There you go." The scratchy voice came back, a whisper louder than a car horn. "You've finally admitted it to her."
"Wha…" The pregnant teen's eyes widened. "Yoru, what-"
"I'm a contract killer Ai." Yoru's expression turned flinty. "I'm an assassin, a hitwoman, mercenary, whatever you want to call it. I kill people for money."
But instead of letting go like the hitwoman assumed she would, Ai's grip tightened. Her knuckles turned almost white from the strain on her hand.
"You do not want to be involved with me." The older teen continued, chalking up her sister's reaction to shock. "I'm dangerous. The people who I work with are dangerous. My enemies are dangerous."
"Please." Yoru noticed her sibling's free hand began to shake. "Just walk away. Forget that we ever met here. It's not worth your safety to pursue me. I'm not worth it."
The entertainer looked down as the last words left her sister's lips. Ai took in a shaky breath before quickly clenching her teeth.
"WHO ARE YOU TO DECIDE THAT!" The idol suddenly exploded.
"Ai…" The assassin was shocked. This was not how she expected Ai to react. She expected disgust, fear, and anger at her choice of career. But, her sister is more furious at Yoru for assuming that she doesn't want anything to do with her.
"Ten… Ten whole years." The younger sibling continued. "We haven't seen each other for so long and you tell me that we shouldn't ever see each other again? DON'T GIVE ME THAT!"
While surprise was not something unfamiliar to the assassin, pure unadulterated shock was something she had little experience with. Things that surprise her can be catalogued, dissected, and filed away in just under half a second.
But this? Ai refusing to let go despite Yoru making it very clear what she is? What could she even categorize it as?
"Ai, you don't know me." The hitwoman shot back. She wouldn't be where she is today if she couldn't think on her feet.
"Yoru, you-" The idol tried to respond.
"It's been ten years." The suit-wearing teen cut her twin off. "We've been separated for longer than we were together."
"Can you – with any degree of confidence – say that you would know someone you haven't seen since you were six?" She spat, her voice choking on an invisible frog. "We're strangers, Ai. Whatever connection we once had, it doesn't exist anymore."
"No, you-" Ai tried again.
"I'm wrong?" Yoru interrupted her sibling once more. "Ai, I killed nine people tonight. Did you know that? No, you didn't."
"And did you know what I felt afterward?" The assassin's voice was a glacier: firm, cold, and immovable. "Nothing. I did not regret killing them. It was a job for me. I did it, and I got paid."
"Yoru, I know that you don't want this." The idol's words almost made the hitwoman flinch. "The mean things you're saying… that's not you."
"Then what do you think I am?" the older twin retorted. "Please, enlighten me."
Yoru stared into the entertainer's eyes. The assassin's orbs of cold steel clashed with her sister's false supernovas.
God, the Wick hopes she isn't crying. When she saw Ai again in the hospital lobby, Yoru wanted nothing more than to break down in her sister's arms and cry fat – ugly – tears. Tears that held a decade's worth of emotions and memories, threatening to explode if any more pressure was put on.
But for the younger twin's sake, she holds them back. Those bubbling sentiments and the long entrenched desire to be with her again buried deep underground and sealed with sixty feet of concrete. Ai shouldn't have to deal with the dangers of the underworld. That was her burden to bear, the labor she chose to shoulder.
"You're my sister, Yoru." Those four words created the first crack in the assassin's walls. "If you're asking what you are, you're my sister."
The pregnant girl was being naive. Yoru knows this. The idol has no clue, not an inkling of the kind of life she's led. And yet…
The hitwoman averted her gaze. She no longer had the guts to continue the staring contest. Her walls crumbled into dust, falling to the ground into piles of gray.
"... You're being unfair." The taller teen spoke after several moments of tense silence.
"No, you're being unfair, Yoru-chan." Ai retorted. "Cutting me off and making guesses like that."
"Ai, I can't." The older twin's words no longer had that edge of resolve, holding more foil than steel now. "I really can't."
Instead of responding immediately, the idol gently placed her hand onto her sister's head.
"You don't have to say yes right away Yoru-chan." The entertainer softly patted her sibling's crown. "Just, think about it, alright?"
"I'm sorry." Yoru murmured.
She's sorry, but for what? For not contacting her even when she had the opportunity? For pushing her away when in fact she wanted the opposite?
"You don't have to apologize, Yoru-chan." Ai simply smiled at her. "I know you're just trying to protect me. But, I'm a grown up now. I can protect myself."
"You're still a kid, Ai." The assassin disagreed.
"Then we're still kids." The idol replied just before she let go of her twin's arm.
"Hug?" The entertainer spread her arms wide, fully trusting her sister to reciprocate.
Yoru smiled and stepped toward her.
"I love you, Ai." The hitwoman wrapped her arms around her shorter sibling. "Even if we never see each other again, please remember that."
"Don't say something like that." Ai returned the gesture. "I'm sure we'll meet again."
The twins stayed like that for a little while. They let the seconds wash over themselves, basking in the brightest moment they had in years.
Here, Yoru isn't the Angel of Death and Ai is no longer Japan's rising pop sensation. Here, they're just two sisters finding comfort in each other's embrace. A pair that had been separated for far too long, forced to live through expectations bestowed upon them.
However, all good things had to come to an end.
"Ai." Yoru was the one who broke the hug. "I'm sorry, but I have to go."
Ai stared into her sister's eyes, her expression almost pleading for her sister to stay for a little while longer.
The assassin shook her head. Even though she wished she could embrace forever, she still had other responsibilities.
"Promise me." The idol quickly seized the hitwoman's hand when she turned to leave. "Promise me you'll reconsider."
"I will." Ai loosened her grip once the words left the eldest twin's lips.
"Be seeing you, Ai."
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On the road to Yoru's home
2 minutes later
8:37 PM
"You know that was a bad decision."
Yoru quickly glanced toward the Accord's front passenger seat. A girl that looked exactly like Ai – minus the pregnant belly – sat where there was just air seconds prior.
"Asa." The assassin muttered its name.
The ghost – at least, that's what the hitwoman thinks she is – smiled. It was an uncanny thing. It resembled Ai's smile at first glance, but the illusion quickly fell apart upon further examination. The apparition's lips were too tight in some places and wavered too much in others.
"All that talk about staying away for her own safety."Asa leaned forward, resting her forearm on the dashboard. "And you folded in just four words. "
The hitwoman didn't respond to her jab.
"You know, Yoru-chan." Yoru bristled when the shade used the same honorifics her twin did. "You can't keep making mistakes like that."
"What do you know?" It took everything for the teenager to stop herself from growling.
"What do I know?" Asa tilted her head. "I know that every time you get close to someone, they get hurt."
"Your mom, Helen." The spirit raised her index finger to begin to list names. "Your dad, John. Your squadmates, Willafried, Gavriil, Tatanya, and Evgeniya."
"What about Hikaru?" The girl couldn't stop herself from immediately responding. "He's alive, has a stable job, and is close to family. He's doing very well for himself."
"That's one success out of – what – six failures?" The ghost simply responded. "Tsk, tsk, you know that gambling like that isn't good. This isn't like the last time you played Russian roulette, Yoru-chan~"
"Don't call me that." Yoru snapped.
"Touched a nerve, didn't I?" Asa leaned in, her astral lips almost touching the hitwoman's ear. "You always get emotional when it comes to people you care about. Couldn't help but get attached, right?"
"You stop thinking, and go with whatever makes you feel better." The apparition leaned back into the seat. "And whenever that happens, it always backfires."
"Think Yoru," The spirit craned her neck to meet the teen's eyes in the rearview mirror. "Was it really the best decision to promise Ai that? That just puts a big target on her back."
"Idols get stabbed all the time, you know?" The assassin's eye twitched as Asa continued. "If some delusional otaku can do that, what do you think would happen if trained assassins go after her, hmm? Come on, just cut your losses and never see her again. This will be better for both of you."
"I think you have forgotten someone." Yoru breathed out. "Akira. I helped her take back the Osaka Continental."
"You helped her take back what she lost because of you." Asa scoffed. "Besides, you know that-"
"No." The hitwoman shut the spirit. "I thought I knew. There's a difference. Talking with Ai again made me realize that."
"I'm not omniscient." Yoru slowed the car down upon crossing into a familiar road. "I don't know everything that'll come from my choices. Sure, bad things may happen, but who's to say good things can't happen as well?"
"And besides." She pulled into an empty parking lot. "I promised her that I'll reconsider. At least give me a week to think things over before you start bothering me."
"Hah…" Asa heaved a sigh. "Fine then, be like that. Don't come crying when everything crashes down around you."
The teenager unbuckled her seatbelt and looked over to the passenger side before leaving. There was no one there, just a car seat with nary an indent in the leather.
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Inside the clothing store
Inside a small clothing store tucked beside one of the many roads in Shiiba, a woman quietly folds up clothes. She quietly bobs her head along to the music playing from the pair of earbuds she's wearing, a much needed implement to break the monotony of her work.
Even though the shop is merely a front for her more illicit business, she still needs to perform regular maintenance. After all, a badly-maintained store raises questions and questions aren't typically conducive to hiding things.
*Ding Ding ding*
The door chimes suddenly rang, signalling to the seamstress that someone had entered her shop.
"I'm sorry." The tailor looked up from the shirt she's folding, prepared to inform whoever entered that it's past her business hours. "But I'm afraid that-"
"Evening' Ayane." A familiar pair of amethyst eyes greeted her from the entrance. Yoru Wick casually waved at Ayane as the glass door closed behind her.
"Ah, Miss Wick." The tailor removed her earbuds and stepped out from behind the table. "My apologies. How may I help you?"
"I need a new suit." The assassin informed her.
"I see." The Continental seamstress took out a ring of keys before making her way toward an employees only sign at the back of the store. "Follow me."
Yoru obliged, trailing behind Ayane as she walked through a series of rooms and down a set of stairs. Shortly after, the pair stopped at an unassuming metal door.
The shopkeeper pushed open a door to reveal an extravagant room that seemed out of place within the otherwise humble clothing store.
The room was furnished with expensive spruce drawers. Two open closets filled to the brim with suits were situated on both sides of a large mirror. A glass cabinet filled with rolls of expensive fabric sat flush against the left wall. In the center of the room, there's a small coffee table with an antique tea set sitting on top.
Two clothing racks filled with more suits lined both sides of the entrance. The room's right flank housed a table in front of a shooting range where a ballistic dummy clad in a three piece suit stood twenty feet away.
"Please hang your jacket here, Miss Wick." Ayane gestured toward a tall coat hanger. "It's been a while since you last came, so I'll need to take some measurements."
"It's been nearly a year since I was on growth hormones." Yoru responded as she unbuttoned her suit jacket. "My height shouldn't have changed much."
"Whether you've recently taken HGH or not, your body will still change." The ginger replied. "And besides, don't you still have some growing left to do?"
"I'm sixteen," The teenager draped her coat on the rack's hooks. "I should've been done growing for a year now."
"Huh," The tailor vocalized as the girl made her way to the mirror in the center of the room. "I thought you were a bit younger than that."
"I suppose you didn't have much experience making suits for people like me?" Yoru inferred.
"No, I really haven't," Ayane walked behind the assassin with a tape measure in hand. "I could count the number of underage customers I've served with one hand. Apart from you, the last one was…"
The woman was blanking on the name, but the hitwoman knows exactly who she's thinking of.
"Suzuko." Yoru informed the seamstress as the ginger pinned one end of the tape measure on her left shoulder."Suzuko Hikaru. Blonde hair, brown eyes, always buys blue suits because they're cheaper."
"Ah, yes. Mr. Suzuko." Ayane jotted down the teen's shoulder length. "How is he, by the way? You two came together last time, but you're by yourself today."
"He got out." The girl answered before the shopkeeper softly coiled the tapeline around her neck. "Last I heard, he's trying to become a cop in Tokyo."
"Tokyo?" Ayane tilted her head to look over Yoru's shoulder. "Not Osaka?"
"Tokyo's closer to family." The seamstress jotted down more of the Wick's measurements. "He lives with his sister and her children now."
"I see." Ayane commented, pulling the tape measure over the assassin's arm. "It's way easier to leave nowadays, but it's still surprising to hear someone actually retired."
Yoru stiffened. She's intimately familiar with what caused the difficulty of retirement to plummet. After all, her father was the reason why the High Table adopted such radical policy changes.
"But a policeman," The red-head quickly changed the topic once she noticed her customer's discomfort. "It suits him. He's always the type to put others over himself. You and Mr. Suzuko were extremely alike in that way, Miss Wick."
"Yeah," The hitwoman's lips curled into a small smile. "He's even better than me in some ways."
"Coming from you," The woman wrapped the tapeline around the younger girl's chest. "That's quite a compliment."
"I wouldn't be saying it if it wasn't true." Yoru added on. "I've probably learned as much from him as he learned from me."
"You two seem quite close." Ayane commented before moving on to measuring the teen's waist.
"... We were." The girl reflectively said. "But he retired. We're in different worlds now."
"And besides," Yoru continued. "He's moved on, using what he learned for better reasons than I am. Whatever friendship we had, it won't be the same again."
"Don't say things like that." The tailor asserted as she measured the length of the hitwoman's legs. "You're young. There's bound to be plenty of opportunities for you in the future."
The assassin nodded at the seamstress's words. While she doesn't believe that someone like Hikaru will ever appear again, she shouldn't count out the possibility of that happening. Just because the chances are low, that doesn't mean it's impossible. Maybe the girl will find another sprig of hay if she searched the needle stack long enough.
"Alright, all done." Ayane announced when she recorded the last of Yoru's measurements. "Thank you for your patience Miss Wick."
"No problem shopkeep." Yoru politely replied. "How long do I have to wait for the suit?"
"I don't have any other orders to fulfill so it shouldn't take more than a day and a half." The redhead walked over to the room's shooting range. "I'll send you a message when you can pick it up."
The teenager nodded and walked toward her hanging coat.
"By the way Miss Wick," the Continental tailor called out. "Would you like a demonstration of the suit's capabilities?"
"... I can stay for that." The Wick threaded her left hand through her jacket sleeve. "I'm a bit curious about what has changed."
"I'm sure you'll be pleasantly surprised." The seamstress replied as she unholsters a tan pistol from behind her apron.
Ayane's thumb deftly struck the magazine release at the Five-seveN's trigger guard and gently caught the falling steel magazine before racking the Belgian gun's slide to release the chambered round. She set the empty mag onto the table before snatching up one from a box labeled "TC Rounds."
"With the constant innovation in pistol calibers," she inserted the fresh magazine into her pistol and chambered the new round. "There is a need for us tailors to get ahead of the curb with more protective suits."
"Our new model of body armor incorporates graphene alongside the techniques and materials of the last generation." Ayane leveled the handgun at the dummy. "That considerably improves the strength of our bullet-resistant suits while remaining lightweight and flexible."
*Bang Bang Bang Bang*
The tailor fired off four times in rapid succession.
"So, they finally managed to take graphene out of the lab." Yoru commented when the seamstress walked toward the ballistic mannequin. "I thought it wouldn't remain practical for another five years at least."
"You tell me." Ayane reached into the suit and pulled out a thin cloth-like material. "You've worked for the High Table. You should know what sort of things they're keeping from the rest of us."
"Sorry, I can't say." The hitwoman shook her head. "It's classified."
"I figured." The redhead shook off the tungsten fragments loosely clinging to the armor. "But moving on, the graphene also improves the suits' shock absorption."
The woman then slid the black blazer off the dummy, revealing clay with a smooth – unblemished – surface underneath the cloth.
"Now instead of feeling like you just got sucker punched whenever you get shot," Ayane knocked on the mannequin to prove that it is indeed made of plastic. "It'll feel like you got shoved instead."
"Sounds a lot better than 'quite painful I'm afraid.'" Yoru commented.
The seamstress smiled at the younger girl's joke. She was quite familiar with her Italian mentor's rather eccentric mannerisms.
"Same style as always?" The tailor asked as she readjusted the suit.
"Yeah." Yoru replied as Ayane slid the armor sheet back into the dummy's jacket. "Same as always."
"Fabulous." The older tailor said with a smile. "I'll see you when you pick it up."
The assassin reached into her pocket and set three golden coins onto the table.
"Thank you for your services Ayane." The hitwoman turned to leave. "Take care."
[... .... .- -.. --- .-- / --- ..-. / .- -. / .. -.. --- .-.. ---... / .-.. . .- ...- .. -. --. / - .... . / .-.. .. ..-. . / -.-- --- ..- / -.- -. . .--]
Outside of Yoru's home
Around fifteen minutes later
*Skrrrch*
Yoru stepped on the Honda Accord's brake, bringing the vehicle to a half in front of her house's garage. She unbuckled her seatbelt and stepped out of the car.
'I need to get rid of that tomorrow.' The assassin thought to herself as she hobbled toward the front entrance. 'I don't need a car when I have a motorcycle.'
After pulling herself up her porch, the hitwoman inserted a key into the lock. With two twists, the door unlocked and she let herself in.
"Woof woof!" Two excited barks rang out when Yoru flicked on the living room's light switch.
"Hey buddy." The teenager knelt down to receive her running pooch. She ran her fingers across the canine's head and gently scratched its ears.
"You hungry?" The pitbull let out excited pants before letting out a bark as if he's saying yes.
The girl pushed herself onto her feet and made her way to her pet's food and water bowl. The dog trotted beside her, his tail eagerly wagging the entire time.
"Wait here until I clean them, okay?" Yoru gently ordered her four-legged companion as she lifted the two containers from the ground.
The pooch sat on the ground as his owner walked into the kitchen. The hitwoman deposited the two bowls into the sink and opened the faucet. She scrubbed them with a sponge while water streamed across the dishes.
After around half a minute of washing, the assassin turned off the faucet. She dried the steel containers with a paper towel before stacking them together.
Yoru returned to where her black canine was patiently awaiting her return and set the two receptacles down. She filled up the food bowl with a bag of kibble before returning to the kitchen for a pitcher.
Her dog had begun to dig into his meal by the time the teen returned. She filled up his water bowl with purified water and sat on the floor beside the pooch.
The girl let out a deep breath. Today has been a massive string of events. Her contract went off the rails, leading her to receive injuries she otherwise wouldn't have. Then, when Yoru went to get her wounds treated, she bumped into her sister who – somehow – just so happened to be at the only Continental medical facility in miles.
What's more, Ai was pregnant. The Wick kept tabs on her younger twin to know that she's an idol, but hasn't dug into her private life to discover any potential boyfriend. The hitwoman didn't know when exactly that happened, and she isn't eager to find out. Yoru wouldn't allow that kind of information anywhere near the Continental's systems.
'I'll have to file a complaint with the Continental tomorrow,' The assassin thought as she watched her dog eat. 'And get to the bottom of whether the Akatsuki knew that Kuroda would be there. The Continental would take care of them if the clan really was trying to short change me'
'And Ai…' Her expression turned dour. 'I talked big to Asa on the drive to Ayane's, but I really don't know what to do. Should I start spending time with her now that she's in the safest place she can possibly be? If I were to do that, what should I do? I don't really know what her interests are and-'
"Woof!" A bark interrupted her train of thought.
"I'm fine buddy." Yoru looked at her pooch and let off a little smile.
The dog tilted his head before trotting closer to her. The teenager reached out and began patting the pitbull's head.
'Whatever.' She thought as the pooch leaned into her touch. 'Today has been hectic enough. I'll deal with all of that tomorrow.'