Chapter 1

            “Don’t even bother trying to call the police—we cut the phone lines.  But just in case…everyone!  Slide your cell phones towards us!”  The young woman demanded.

            She looked very young.  She wore her strange, deep blue colored hair up in a bun.  She had bangs that were straight across, reaching about where her eyebrows would be and on the side of her face laid long pieces of hair that would come to a point, reaching her collarbone. 

She wore a white dress that went straight down to her wrists would lie.  The dress also had no sleeves, but covered her shoulder, and the neckline went straight across where her collarbone and neck met.  She wore white, flat, tall boots that reached up just almost meeting along the dress length.  Her face was hidden by a traditional Japanese mask—an ugly, white, Hannya mask.  She was holding up a Japanese long sword, a Tachi, and a handgun was held close to her hips by a thick, red yarn being tied around her waist and around the gun.

            The people in the café took out their phones and slid them towards her feet, doing as they were told.  Many people laid flat on the ground, terrified.  Most cafés wouldn’t be robbed—really, how often would a café be robbed?

            “Good.  Ookami, check out the register.” She ordered.

            “Right.” The older woman spoke.

            The older woman, seeming-or sounding-about 30, that went by Ookami wore the traditional Japanese wolf demon mask—or, a white with red pattern okuri-inu mask.  Her skin was the color of burnt sienna, and because of the Ookami mask, you could only see her bottom jaw, so her face was also hidden.  Her hair reached about her shoulders and had a really choppy style to it and she has no bangs that showed a widow’s peak.  Her hair was dyed a slightly dark violet with apple green highlights and tips.

            She wore a white, Chinese influenced, baggy-bottom half shirt with one side showing bare shoulder while the other had a long, flowing sleeve.  Her white skirt flowed to her knees while having a slit toward the front of her right leg.  She also wore white Japanese styled socks that went up to her knees and white stained Japanese sandals—or, white stained setta. Her Japanese sword was an ordinary katana and also an ordinary handgun which hung from yarn like the girl with the Hannya mask.

            She pointed her katana at the 40 year old woman behind the counter, “Move—with your hands behind your head and get to the ground.”

            Without hesitation, she did as she was told.  Ookami quickly went behind the register, “Hey, Ronin, toss me the bag!”

            Ronin, a term for a rogue samarai, tossed her a gym bag.  He wore an unattractive, silver painted samurai mask.  His hair was brown and messy.  He wore a white, crew neck t-shirt and a white jacket and white jeans and snickers.  As a belt, he also wore thick yarn that held his weapons, but unlike the others, his Wakizashi sword was held by the yarn and his gun was out.

            “Do they make good money here?” the man that went by Ronin asked.

            “Just as expected…but, I doubt it will satisfy you.” Ookami answered, quickly tossing the money in to the bag.”

            “You heard her!  Satisfy me by handing over all your purses and wallets—now!” Ronin ordered as he pointed his gun around the room.

            The one with the Hannya masked looked up to see a camera—a working camera.  She quickly pulled out her gun and shot the lens, “I thought I told them to turn everything off!”

            “Hey, relax, Hannya—they’re only kids.  It’s not like it should be first nature to them.” Ookami defended casually.

            “Besides, what one little video of us is going to do, huh?” Ronin gave a bit of a chuckle. “We’re famous enough as it is.”

            “More like infamous…” Ookami zipped up the bag.

            “The more we expose ourselves in anyway and the more easily we can get caught—.” Hannya quickly stopped and started listening.  She could hear sirens quickly growing in volume, “Crap!  The cops!”

            Ronin quickly turned around at the civilians, “Who called?!”

            “Idiot!  Don’t worry about that, let’s just leave!” Ookami barked.

            “To the back—Hell Cat and Kabuki has the car ready to go.” Hannya ordered.

            “Oh hell no!  I’m not letting that kids drive!” Ronin complained.

            “Shut up and just follow orders!” Ookami snapped, grabbing hold of his jacket and she quickly brought him along, “No time to argue here!”

            They quickly ran to the back of the café where there was a white pick-up truck.  In the front seat was a boy no older than 14 with a bleach-white cap that covered his blond hair, white zip-up jacket with a white t-shirt, shorts, and white sneakers and he wore a strange looking Japanese cat-like mask, white with red markings. 

In the passenger seat was a girl no more than eight.  She wore a white, formal looking dress with sleeves that were slightly puffed and the skirt reaching her knees.  Her socks had lace on the top and she wore white, shiny shoes.  In her golden, thick curled hair was a white ribbon.  Her mask was a Kabuki dancer style mask—with a white face and painted red lips, eyes outlined in black with a single light blue dot shaped in a tear.

“Hello!” the girl giggled.

“Kabuki, Hell Cat, get ready—the cops are coming.” Hannya explained as she, Ronin, and Ookami quickly went into the back seats.  “Drive!”

“Aye, aye, ma’am.” The boy, Hell Cat, quickly turned the key and quickly stepped on the gas pedal as he turned the wheel to turn.

The group dove away, taking a different road than the cops, driving as casual as the can before they slowly gained speed, still hoping to go unnoticed.  They didn’t worry about how they wore masks since the windows were very tinted, but it was the car that they hoped they didn’t recognized.   Soon, they quickly blended in with the traffic.

 

            Down at the Los Angeles police station, the chief of police sat at his desk as he rubbed his temples in frustration.  He was a man in his early 50’s, having thinning, greying hair and a thick mustache.  He was a bit plump, but in great physical shape.  The wrinkles on his face were more from stress than aging.

            “So, you’re telling me they got away once again…?” the chief, Mr. Tanner, sighed once more.  He slammed his fist down to his desk, “How the hell is it hard to catch a group that sounds out from the crowd?!”

            “Sorry, Chief…” The rooky apologized as he informed his boss, “But maybe we’ll catch them next—”

            “We tell each other that every time!” Chief Tanner snapped, “How the hell are we letting a group that robs cafés, Target, and markets get away so easily?!  Hell—there are two that are rainbow colored, a man with the rainbow colored freaks, and they bring along two kids with them!  On top of that—they were only white and masks!”

            “But we’ve gathered lots of evidence though.” The rooky spoke very optimistically, “We can soon finally—”

            “What evidence have we gathered?  How are they helping us now?” Chief Tanner shouted.

            “W-Well…what do you suppose we should do then?” Rooky asked.

            The chief reclined in his seat in thought, rubbing his nose a bit, “Well…I suppose we can call up some old friend-enemies…”

            “Friend-enemies, sir…?”

            “…Tell me, Rooky, have you ever heard of: The Company?”

2: Chapter 2

Chapter 2

            “Welcome, June!” a man smiled warmly.  “Welcome to: The Company!”

            His hair was red-orange and his eyes were emerald green.  He was about his 40’s and only had slight laugh lines.  He wore very formal looking black jacket, collared shirt, slacks, and shiny black shoes.  He sat behind a black desk in a black hair.  The carpet of the room was grey and so were the walls, but of a lighter shade.

            “W-Who are you?  H-How do you know my name?!  Wh-Where am I?!  Release me and let me see!” the young looking woman demanded.

            Her skin was the color toffee and her hair was brown with U-curved bangs that hid her eyebrows and the bottom of her hair also created a U-shape, reaching down just a bit past her shoulders.  She looked very petite, but with a bit of wide hips.  She wore a very formal, intern business uniform.  She was tied up in a chair and blind folded, trying to see if she could struggle her way free.

            “Zizume, my daughter, remove the blind fold for me.” He spoke.

            “Yes, Dad.” The young woman smiled as she did as she was told.

            Zizume, a young woman of 21, is the daughter of the man in charge of The Company.  Her hair was cherry red tied up in a ponytail with a curl by her ear and her eyes were bright green.  She wore a black, button up, long sleeved shirt with a nice collar and sleeve cuffs.  She wore a black, short skirt that swayed when she moved.  She also wore red pumps and white, pearled earrings.  She was an attractive looking young woman.

            “…what kind of name is Zizume?” June gave a strange look when she could see again.

            “…What kind of name is June?” Zizume narrowed her eyes as she tried to tease back.

            “Um, June is a very common name.” June noted.

            “You see!  I wanted to have her name be ‘Little Zizu’ as she grew up and she ware born in May!  Zizu-may!  You see what I did there?” Zizume’s father grinned with pride.

            “…This isn’t the point!  We’re getting off topic!” June shook her head back into focus, “Who the heck are you?!”

            “He’s my dad!” Zizume smiled sweetly.

            “Yeah, I get that.” June rolled her eyes.

            “My name is Derek.  I’m the owner of The Company—which you are now a part of!” the man, Derek smiled.

            “Sorry if the kidnapping was a little bumpy—didn’t realize how much fight you had in ya!” Zizume smiled awkwardly in apology.

            “What the heck is: The Company?!”  June narrowed her eyes, “And thanks for admitting kidnap!”

            “The Company is a, er, ‘business’ that my own parents started.” Derek began to explain, “My parents created it so they can take out anyone they extremely dislike.  They created their gang and had them to help.  We look for potential in people to help us toward whatever goals we want—by we, I mainly mean Zizume and me. But, since we’re family pretty much, if you need anything, we’ll be there for ya!”

            “…Are you saying this is a mafia?!” June had a panic looked on her face, “I’m not joining some mafia-gangster thing group!!”

            “It’s not a mafia.” Derek corrected.

            “It’s not?” June placed on a suspicious look.  “You look it.”

            Zizume and Derek looked at each other and then back at June, “…Well, we’re not Italian.”

            “…Right, Scottish.”

            “We’re not Scottish!”

            “Excuse me, Irish.  But I thought the Irish has more of an orange type hair…huh.”

            “We’re not Irish either!” an irritation showed in their tone.

            “Okay, what else doesn’t seem mafia then.” June started shaking her leg in impatience.

            The father and daughter went silent for a moment, trying to think.  “…Oh!”

            “I thought of one!” Derek began, “We don’t officially have a side…we’re neither good nor bad.  We can work for the police force if they ask us to and if we want to—or not.  It changes throughout each generation, really.”

            “My grandma and grandpa were against the force.  My dad here works with the force only if they make it interesting.” Zizume explained, “I might go one way or the other—maybe not.  Who knows?  But I’ll see when I’m in charge after my dad retires.”

            “Well…I guess that’s one thing…” June admitted, “But I’m still not joining!  Taking out people you don’t like?!  That’s crazy!  I refuse!”

            “…Also who society dislikes!” Derek added neutrally.

            “I still refuse!”

           “…Yeah, here’s the thing, June.” Zizume sat on the edge of the desk, “You’re already apart of The Company.  I mean, we already sent in a notice that you quit your old job!”

            “What?!” June looked horrified.

           “Psh!  You were a simple intern that made not enough money—we make good money here!” Derek informed.

            “Oh yeah?  Where do you get the money from?” June narrowed her eyes in disapproval.

            “…We work for it—the government!  Both…”  Derek and Zizume spoke in unison.

            “Yeah…sure… But I’m not joining this!” June declared, “I’m not risking my life or going to kill anyone!”

            “Oh!  Don’t worry!  You’ll just do the paper work and get me stuff like coffee!” Derek smiled.

            June stared in disbelief, “…You had me quit my job as intern just so I can be an intern again?!”

            “…But with better pay!” Zizume smiled optimistically.  “And you will have more benefits!”

            “Besides!  Once part of The Company, you can’t escape!” Derek spoke creepily, teasing.

            “…So this is a mafia!” June declared with a stop of her foot.

            “We’re not Italian though!”

            “Doesn’t matter!  …Untie me right now!”

            Zizume untied June, “You work here from eight in the morning to ten at night from Monday to Friday.  If you try to tell anyone of where you now work or anything—you won’t wake up again.  We have seven different locations—you’ll learn about them soon, but you’ll come to this building unless told otherwise, got it?”

            “…Do I have an option to say no?” June asked.

            “Say no, we kill you on the spot.” Zizume smiled.

            “Y-Yes, ma’am…!” June rubbed her arms a bit as she stood up.

            “We have already removed you from the system and everything.” Derek smiled, “So have fun with that!”

            “I’ll go get your new uniform.” Zizume left the room.

            “…How can you remove me from ‘the system’?” June asked, “What does that even mean?”

            “I took you out of any records you have.  If anyone finds you finger prints and looks it up on the computer system thing—you won’t exist.  Nobody has any record of you—from the hospital and town you were born at, when you last used your credit card, to the majority of your identity.”  He explained, “Isn’t technology wonderful?”

            “How can you even do that?!” June didn’t believe such a skill.  “Isn’t that messing with the law?”

            “You can thank the Computer 25 group in Location 6 for that.” Derek smiled, “If it’s in the system—not anymore…but if there’s a paper copy, then that’s a bit troublesome.  But I don’t see it as much of an issue.”

            Zizume reentered the room with folded up clothes—a black shirt that was very similar to her own, a black, short, pencil skirt, and black heels.  “Your new uniform—I’m sure it’ll look nice on you.”

            June took the clothes and examined them, “Don’t you think the skirt is too short?”

            “…What makes you think it’s too short?” Zizume raised a brow.

            June looked at Zizume’s skirt, “Of course you don’t find it too short.”

            “Hey!”

            Derek chuckled, “I’m liking her already—she has lots of energy.”

            “I’m not going to work here because I want to or because of the good pay you’re probably lying about—but to save my own life!” June added.

            “Just like how everyone else started—well, most of the people started.” Derek smiled, “Make sure you drive towards the back of the building when come to work—without wearing your uniform at first.  You change on inside the building.  Most cops will recognize the style of uniform.  I need you in that uniform and in my office by eight on the dot, understand?”

            “I guess…” June sighed.

            “Oh, and because you are new, here’s your identification card—you’ll need to prove you work here.”  Derek handed over a card.

            June stared at the card, observing how it showed her picture, her looks and race, her status, and age. “…My age is wrong.”

            “What?”

            “It says I’m twenty one—I’m actually thirty.” June corrected.

            Zizume stared at June wide eyed before she started to clap, “I congratulate you, girl!”

            June narrowed her eyes a bit, “I don’t want to be considered too young—or else nobody will take me seriously!  If I must work here, make me thirty!  Or maybe make me thirty five!”

            “Are you the only girl in the world who wants to pretend to be older?” Zizume raised a brow.

            “Well, because I’m lazy and I don’t like to waste things…congrats!  You’re now twenty one, June!” Derek applauded.

            “…How did I get into this…?” June sighed.

            “Because we saw you one day and saw how determined and serious you were and your attitude—we liked that.  See?  Even now after being kidnapped, you still remain rather calm and serious than scared!” Zizume smiled.

            “I was talking to myself, thank you.”

            “Oh…  Hey, do you have a boyfriend?  You should have one!”

            “What?!”

            At that moment, an older man came entering the room, wearing the same thing as Derek, but without the jacket.  He held a letter in his hand, “From Location 3, sir.”

            “Location 3 is where anyone can contact us—whether it’s our own people or people outside The Company.” Zizume informed June.  “We’re Location 7—Head Quarters.”

            “Company or not?” Derek asked, lacing his hands together and placing them on top of his desk.  Unlike earlier, he was appearing more serious.  “Or is it anonymous like last time?”

            “No, sir.” The man walked over to the desk, handing over the envelope, “From the police force.”

            “Identification.” Derek demanded after receiving the envelope.  “I know you well enough, buddy, but since it’s from the police—just in case…”

            “I understand.” He reached in his pocket, pulling out his card and handing it over.

            Derek held the card up to the light, appearing satisfied, he handed it back over, “Zizume.”

            “Right.”  Zizume walked over to the man and started to pat him down.  “Sorry, Jeff.”

            “What are you doing?” June asked.

            “Making sure he isn’t wired.  He’s clean.” Zizume answered.  When she was down, walking back over beside her father, she smiled at the man, “She’s new.”

            The man, Jeff, looked over at June, “Good luck.”

            “Stay here before you return to Location 3.” Derek ordered, “Just in case I need to send a reply.  But you can just go around the building if you like—I’ll call you when I’m done.”

            “Yes, sir.” Jeff nodded before leaving the room.

            Derek opened the letter and began reading it.

            “Who is it from, Dad?” Zizume asked.  “What does it say?”

            “Chief of police…Mr. Tanner—you might not remember him…” Derek began, “You might not remember him—first time you saw him was when you were only twelve.”

            “Oh…I think I remember him…” Zizume had a thoughtful look as she tried to recall.

            “Who?  Chief of police?” June looked at the two, “You know the chief of police?”

            “Friend since middle school—it’s a bit complicated.” Derek explained to June.

            “What does it say?” Zizume asked once more.

            “The letter says:

Dear Company,

            As you have heard from the news, this group of five criminals has been committing crimes around here in L.A.  We’ve been trying our best to arrest them, but as you can see, we fail every time.  I’m thinking we might need some help from…outside the law.  It would be great if you can help us out here—but of course, knowing you, my old friend, that it won’t be that easy.  I know that you might be able to help us...if, that is, there something that will interest you.  I hope we can meet somewhere to discuss things that might benefit you.  You may pick the place and I will come alone if you would like.  Since I’m bringing copy of evidence—we both know what we’re doing is most likely legal.  So let’s keep this between us, don’t you agree?

Sincerely,

    Marton Tanner

            “So, what are we going to do, Dad?” Zizume asked.

            Derek reached into his desk drawer, pulling out a paper, pen, and a stamper with an imaged carved smoothly on the bottom and an ink pad.  He began writing while speaking out loud, “Meet us…on Gladys Avenue.  Bring…nobody…only what…you need.   Sincerely…The Head Leader of the Company.”

            He then folded up the paper in business style and placed it inside of an envelope.  On the down point of the V-shape of the envelope seal, he took the stamper, rubbed it in the ink, and stamped it.

            “Tomorrow…We’re going to meet at Location 1 tomorrow.” Derek answered, “Let’s see what my old friend has for us…”

3: Chapter 3

Chapter 3

            Gladys Avenue, Los Angeles, an old looking building named by The Company, “Location 1.”  Location 1 is the building for meetings—mainly for meeting anyone outside of The Company.  It only had two level and seven rooms.  There was one room that was nicely fixed compared to the rest of the building.  The walls were painted black and the flooring was dark.  In the center of the room was a long, black stained table with five black stained chairs on each side and at the bottom end of the table towards the exit, and there was only one tall, black leather, wheeled chair on the other opposite end of the table, away from the exit.

            That’s where Derek sat.  He wore his usual shiny, black shoes, nice black dress shirt, black slacks, and black dress jacket.  Zizume stood on his right side, wearing her black dress shirt, skirt, and red high heels and pearl earrings, and two black pouches tied on the side of her hip.  June stood on Derek’s left side, wearing her new uniform—black dress shirt, pencil skirt, black pump heels, wearing a pearl necklace and she held a clipboard close to her.

            Derek spun around in his chair a couple of times, “What time is it?”

            June looked around the room, “I don’t know…  There’s no clock in here and I don’t have a watch.”

            “Why don’t you have a watch?  I told you to have one!” Derek stopped spinning so he can face her, giving a disapproving look.

            “No you didn’t!” June retorted, “Besides, if you did, I probably forgot because I’m coming to work against my will so I can live!”

            “It’s more like a lie so we can scare people to come.” Zizume smiled.

            “…Then I’m here for the pay—since you guys had me quite my real job!  Or was that a lie?” June asked.

            “That part is true.” Derek resumed spinning.

            “Then that’s it—I’m here to be paid.” June sighed, “I gotta eat somehow…!”

            “June, take note—new watch for meeting room in Location 1 and…” He paused, looking around as he spun, “…and a dart board—I’m gonna hang it on the door, that way when someone opens it and I’m playing—I can accidently hit someone!  Or at least, scare them!”

            “…You’re the strangest man I have ever met.” June sighed as she shook her head.

            “I don’t see note taking!” Derek announced.  June rolled her eyes, grabbing the pen that hung from the clipboard and quickly took note.

            “Dad, what time did you say he should come over?”  Zizume asked.

           

            “I told him to come at 7 o’clock at night.” Derek said, “I wonder what time it is…”

            “Are you night workers or day time workers?” June asked.

            “Both.” Zizume began to explain, “Our organization is split into two groups—day and night workers.  Some of us work in the day and some at night, then we switch it, so those who work at nights can work in the day and vice versa.”

            “What are we on?” June asked.

            “I am the leader of The Company, my daughter is second in command—therefore, we are both.” Derek answered, “Which means you are both, too.”

            “Do you guys sleep?” she asked.

            “Of course!  But we work from 6a.m to 11:00p.m on the weekdays, on the weekends we’re here for a shorter time—but truth be told, our schedule is highly irregular, so don’t pay too much attention to the work hours.” Zizume smiled.  “You come when we call you.”

            “Oh!  That reminds me!” Derek pulled out his phone, “Hey, Steve, yeah, can you bring over the small box of stuff I left in my car?  Oh!  Bring me a watch, too, preferably black and feminine.  Okay, thanks, bye!”

            “What?” June asked.

            “You’ll see.” Derek replied, “It’s for you.”

            “That reminds me!  I should go over things with you!” Zizume spoke.

            “Like what?” June raised a brow.

            “Whenever you are in uniform or on the job and someone asks who you are, say: Company Member.” Zizume explained, “Or if you’re not on the job or in uniform and the cops catch you and take you in for questioning—same thing.”

            “Okay?  But what if it’s another member?”

            “If it’s another member, they wouldn’t ask for your name—remember that card?  They ask for that instead and that’s how we know who you are.  So keep that in mind because there are gangs that tried to sneak in and spy on The Company before.”

            “I see…  What is The Company anyways—I mean, what is it exactly?  Why don’t you exactly have a ‘side’, like good or bad, and how come the cops haven’t gotten you all yet?  Don’t you do illegal things?  And how can you have so many people working for you?  How do you look for these people?

            “The Company was made by my parents when they were going through a rough time in their younger years—before they had me, the oldest.” Derek began to explain, “It was a way to make money.  Since there were other people going through rough times, they joined in.  It was more of a gang than a ‘company’ at the time—but over the years, it grew.  They didn’t do drug deals or anything like that, but more like thieves and sold the goods they stole.  The Company really prospered during the gang-wars time back when it was really bad.  There are too many gangs in L.A for the cops to grab hold of us—most of the time.  But mainly, that’s how we started out—according to what my parents told me.”

            “Your parents told you?”  June looked at Derek with a brow raised, “You mean you aren’t sure?  And why are you in it—aren’t you guys doing well?”

            “Who knows?  My parents could have exaggerated things or something—most of the people that worked with my parents are retired now.” Derek shrugged.  “And it became almost like a family business—only the oldest of the family are in it.  It helps protect the rest of the family just to have the oldest in the line go in.  None of my nieces or nephews or cousins is in this, only me. 

“Zizume will soon take over, and when she has her first kid, so will he.  Of course, Zizume is my only child—something happens to her, then we go to the next line.  My parents will make it against their will if they have to—especially since 90% of the family barely knows what The Company is exactly.  I would say only my three sisters know what it is exactly.”

“Wow…” June stared in shock, “So…why don’t you guys officially have a side—and how do you find people?”

“It changes through generations—my dad actually started that.” Zizume answered, “He would help hunt down and catch criminals and turn them into the police while at the same time, committing his own crimes.  He says it’s because of personal gain—but I think it’s because he wants the area to be a bit safer since he usually goes after the really bad ones in L.A.”

“Personal gain!” Derek started rotating in his chair once more.

“Anyways,” Zizume smiled as she resumed, “We usually look for people down in the dust or in desperate need and willingness to do almost anything.”

At that moment, a man walked into the room carrying a small, brown box and placed it on the table in front of Derek, “Here you go, Sir.”

“Like Steve for example,” Derek began, “His wife left him, got laid off, had many debts and he had a baby to raise on his own—so we decided to help him out.”

            “Explaining things to the new kid on the block,” Zizume joked to the man, Steve, as she explained.  “So many questions.”

            “Anyways,” Derek began, handing a black wrist watch to June, “we found you at the supermarket one day—one of our workers did.”

            “It was Sarah,” Steve stated as he left the room.

            “Right, thanks, Steve!” Derek waved bye before he continued, “She observed what you wore and what you were buying, how you organized your wallet—she has a special eye for that kind of stuff.  She actually followed you home to an apartment and to your work.  She concluded you don’t make much money and you always got disrespected by almost everyone, but even so, you had a fighting spirit—we like that kind of stuff in a person.  So we decided to recruit you!  But of course, there’s actually more to a person that will give us so much good reasons why we should recruit them.”

            “I see…” June placed the watch around her wrist in thought, “An intern becoming an intern for semi-criminals.  Lucky me.”

            Zizume reached into the box and handed June a black cellphone, “Here!  It’s a special phone for work—nobody can trace your calls what-so-ever!  You only use it for work and the only people that can contact you should be Company Members!  But just in case, ask who it is and they should reply: Company Member.  If they say, ‘Company Member—black’ it means that they are in uniform and it usually means that Dad or I am going to give you a job or request or they might need help with something—just anything work wise. 

            “If they say, ‘Company Member—civilian’ it means that they are not in uniform, but they need to give you information about something or something important—depends.  But if they don’t add any of that, ask, ‘What is your position?’  If they answer right—you’re good.  If not, then hang up!”

            “Okay then.” June pocketed the phone.

            “And here are black gloves and black mask,” Derek said, handing wrist length gloves and a mask with pointed ends, covering the forehead down to most of the nose.  “It’s good to wear this most of the time—especially the gloves.  The mask is usually just for meeting someone or heading out on the job.”

            Zizume and Derek reached into the box, pulling out wrist length gloves and masks.  Zizume’s mask was similar to Junes, and Derek’s mask was more rounded.  Derek pulled out a pistol and handed it to June—well, more like shoved it into her hands, “For you, my lady!”

            “I am not carrying that around!” June protested, dropping it on the table.

            “Hey!  Be careful with that!”  Zizume jumped a bit, “That’s dangerous!”

            “You’re going to need one in this job.” Derek picked the pistol up and held to towards June, “We all have one!  …Actually, we all have a 9mm pistol—easier that way.  Especially if we’re in a group, that way in case one of us runs out of bullets, the other can help out.”

            “It’s true.” Zizume nodded, patting both pouches on her hip, “You gotta have one.”

            “I never handled a gun before!” June exclaimed.

            “You’ll learn.” Derek shrugged, pushing it into her hands, “We’ll give you like a belt thing to hold it later.  But you need to have—”

            At that moment, someone knocked on the door, “Company Member: Granite.  Your guest has arrived.”

            “We all have nicknames—I think I gave you Sable!  Use your nickname during work, okay?” Derek quickly explained as he and Zizume placed on their masks, “Put on your mask!”

            June placed on her mask, then she pulled out her card, “Sable…  Nice nickname, thanks.”

            Derek gave a look that ordered to not complain, then he looked back towards the door, “Enter.”

            The plump man, Mr. Tanner, enter the room with a briefcase and wearing casual clothes.  He took the seat at the end of the table, placing the case in front of him.  Mr. Tanner didn’t appear nervous or anything—calm, like he should appear since he was meeting an old friend.

            “Hello, Mr. Tanner.” Derek smiled in greeting, “You know the procedure.”

            “I do well enough.” Mr. Tanner nodded a bit to himself.  He pulled out a gun and cellphone, then he slid it across the table to Derek.

             Derek placed the cellphone to one side while he unloaded the gun and placed it on the other.  “Good, shall we start now?”

            “Must you wear that sill mask?” Mr. Tanner asked, “I already know what you look like.”

            “Sorry, Marton can’t take that chance.” Derek smiled.

            Mr. Tanner looked over at Zizume, “My, that can’t be you, Zi—I mean…‘Lil Red!  You’ve grown—I can’t think of you as ‘Lil anymore, now can I?  You were twelve the last time I saw you.”

            “Yeah, it’s been long, Marton.” Zizume smiled, “But I really won’t be ‘Big Red’ until I become leader of The Company.”

            “I know just as well how The Company works—mostly.” Mr. Tanner nodded, “But must we use these silly nicknames when we already know each other?”

            “No, just in case you’re wired something.” Derek stated, “Besides, I got a new intern-secretary person and I rather not put her in danger.”

            “Please help me…!” June groaned, rolling her head back.

            Derek narrowed his eyes at June before resuming his focus on Mr. Tanner, “So, what have you come to us for?  About the five criminals you mentioned in the letter?”

            “Right.”  Mr. Tanner opened the briefcase and pulled out five glossy photos—one showing each individual criminal group member, taken from security cameras.  He held them out towards Derek.

            Derek looked at June before looking back at Marton Tanner.  June walked over and accepted the photos before returning to Derek’s side and placing them in front of him.  Derek began looking through them as Zizume leaned forward to take a look herself, both observing.

            “They’re wearing strange masks…each of them.” Zizume noted quietly aloud, “Majority white masks and white clothes…like a uniform almost.  They’re obviously an organized group of five.”

            “Two of them are just kids though…  I mean, I trained my daughter when she was young, but this is different…” Derek noted, “Just five of them?”

            “Just five.” Mr. Tanner nodded before removing a few papers from the briefcase and handing it towards them, “Some records of the time, place, and what they took.”

            June accepted the papers and placed it in front of Derek and Zizume.  They began looking through the papers and began to examine.  At a few things they read, their brows furrowed in thoughtfulness and rose in surprise and or disbelief, and sometimes the corners of their mouth would lower a bit.

            “They robbed places like Target, a produce market, Block Buster, and a café?” Derek raised a brow to Mr. Tanner, “Why haven’t you caught these criminals before?  What?  Have the police grown lazier and sadder over the years?  And their silly places!  Why do you want us to get them for you?  You should be able to do this yourself!”

            “That’s what’s shameful…we can’t.” Mr. Tanner began to explain, “Here is some of the evidence we have gathered.”  He pulled out another piece of paper and handed it out where June took it and handed it to Derek and Zizume.

            “All their fingerprints are unreadable?” Zizume voiced.

            “When we gather fingerprints from the scene, all of the fingerprints are highly unreadable.  Neither the computer or ourselves can even see it.” Mr. Tanner explained.

            “You’re not saying they’re the criminals that use acid to burn off their fingerprints, right?” Derek asked with a surprise tone, “I mean…sure, they might escalate to bigger things—but really, for Target?  They’re too low-level criminal for that.”

            “No, no, nothing like that at all.” Mr. Tanner shook his head, “More like…very, very, distorted.  Like—”

            “They soak their finger before a crime, right?” Zizume spoke, “They get their fingers prune-y.”

            “Exactly.”

            “I thought that was a myth, but oh well…!” Derek shrugged.  “Point is: why should we help you stop them?”

            “Because they may start of small but I believe they will soon escalate.” Mr. Tanner began to explain, “You see, we believe that the leader of this group is training the others—a criminal breaking in new criminals.  They appear to be very skillful, but they’re starting off low.”

            “What will benefit us?” Zizume asked.

            “You are becoming a leader of The Company.” Mr. Tanner sighed, rubbing the back of his head.  “Let’s see…Well—”

            “Sable, start making a very formal contract for this,” Derek ordered.  “I want him to keep his promise.”

            “Uh… Okay?” June shrugged, “Can I write what you guys want first before I make it official—just so I don’t add or forget anything by mistake.”

            “Sure.” Derek nodded, point to a seat.  June seated as she was ready to write down the promises.

            “Well…If The Company Members get caught, they will be released—but this will only last three times—and it’s not each individual, but as The Company as a whole.” Mr. Tanner proposed.

            “Make it five.” Derek reclined a bit.  “Five times anyone of us was caught.”

            “Fine…five.” Mr. Tanner sighed.

            “Anything else?

            “What else do you want?” Mr. Tanner asked, surprised.

            “All evidence gathered from the five being caught must be destroyed.” Zizume smiled.  “Evidence before and after doesn’t matter, but during the five must be destroyed.”

            “What?!” Mr. Tanner’s eyes widen in shock.  “I can’t!”

            “Nice one, my ‘Lil Red.” Derek smiled proudly.  “What, Mr. Tanner?  You don’t want our help?”

            Mr. Tanner narrowed his eyes, “I might get fired…but fine.”

            “Now, what do you want from us?” Derek asked, “Any conditions you have you might want to give us?  There are two sides to every story.”

            “I don’t think that applies, but yes, I do have some things though.” Mr. Tanner began, rubbing his nose and mustache, “Any evidence gather must be reported to the police and we must meet at after every ‘investigation’ you have to discuss certain things and actions.”

            “As long as you aren’t wired and you come alone and you follow the same procedure.” Derek stated.  “And you don’t get the police involved in our work—I mean, when we try to put a stop to them ourselves and do our own…‘investigations’.  Got that?”

            “But wouldn’t that mean I have to tell the police that we’re getting help from you?” Mr. Tanner asked.

            “You’re going to tell them anyways,” Zizume pointed out, “I mean…where are you get the evidence from?”

            “True…” he sighed.  “But they’re not going to like it.”

            “Anything else?”  Derek asked.

            “Want them all alive.”

            “We make no promises about that—but we’ll try if we can…mainly, we’ll see if we can try to save the kids if we can with no acceptations.  But still, we make no promise there.”

            “…Fine.”

            “Ju—Er, Sable, put that if we can change our mind later on certain things or if we want to add things later, we can.” Derek ordered.

            “Right.” June nodded, “That’s all?”

            “As far as we can think of…yes.” Mr. Tanner nodded.

            “Right, now give me a moment to write the final.” June stated, “I can write quick enough.”

            “Fine by me.” Dere nodded before he looked at his daughter.  “‘Lil Red, you’re going to take care of this yourself.  If you do need any help, call Steve.”

            “What happened to code-names?” June murmured.

            “That is his code-name.” Derek smirked.

            June paused to give a look of confusion before she resumed writing. “Okay then…”

            “You’re going to send out your own daughter against the five?” Mr. Tanner asked, surprised.

            “I’m sure I can take them on myself—I’m probably going to try to break them apart to take them on individually.” Zizume explained.  “Besides, I’ll call Steve if I need help.”

            “Done.” June handed the paper over to Derek.

            Derek pulled out an inkpad and a stamper from the pockets inside his jacket and stamped the paper by the signature area.  He then took out his favorite, black ink pen from his jacket and signed it before sliding it over to Mr. Tanner who began to go over it.

            “Do we have a deal?”

            “…It appears so.”

            “Good.  Meet me here, alone, same time tomorrow.  Bring more evidence with you.  We’ll hold onto and go over the ones we have now.”

4: Chapter 4

Chapter 4

            Gladys Avenue, Location 1, in the same old building and room that the meeting with Mr. Tanner occurred in.  Night had fallen and the clocks told that it was 7’oclock.   Mr. Tanner was sitting in the same seat as he sat before while Derek and Zizume sat on the different sides of the table, in chairs on Mr. Tanner’s left and right.  June stood behind Derek.  In the middle between the triangles of people was new evidence that Mr. Tanner brought in a briefcase along with the previous evidence, neatly separated into piles.

            “So, tell me about each person.” Derek asked, pulling out the glossy photos with his glove covered hand.  “Anything about them that we should know?”

            “The one with the blue hair and demon mask, she is the leader of this band.” Mr. Tanner explained, “We know nothing about her except that she is the leader of the group and she seems to be the one that plans out every crime they commit.  Goes by Hannya.”

          “How about this one here?” Zizume asked, taking a look at one of the pictures, “The one with the fox mask?”

            “She’s a follower of Hannya.  If left alone, she would take charge.” He explained, “She goes by Ookami.  According to witnesses, she’s very obedient when given orders.  If she’s not there, then this guy, Ronin, takes charge.  According to some witnesses…he’s not too bright and careful.”  Mr. Tanner pointed to the photo of Ronin.

            “And these two?” Derek asked.  “The kids.”

            “We don’t know much about them,” Mr. Tanner admitted.  “But the boy goes by Hell Cat and the little girl goes by Kabuki.”

            “What are they called again?” Zizume asked.

            “Akuryō.  That’s what they call themselves.”

            “How come their names and their masks are all Chinese based?” June asked.

            “It’s Japanese.” Mr. Tanner corrected.  “From the swords to their name and masks are Japanese based.”

            “So…that must means that the leader is of Japanese heritage or they’re all Anime freaks gone extreme.” Derek propped an elbow on the table and rested his head in his hand.  “Am I right?”

            “We can only assume.  With not knowing their true identities, we can only assume.” Mr. Tanner sighed.

            “Mr. Tanner.  When my dad and I were looking over some of the evidence, we noticed a few things—we’re not sure if you already caught it or not, but look here.” Zizume handed the records of the time and places the Akuryō committed crimes.

            “What is it?” Mr. Tanner took the paper and looked over it.

            “From Monday through Friday, the average time where robberies are committed around 3:30 to 4:00,” Zizume began to explain. “Whereas the weekends have an average time they usually commit crime is sometime around 12:00p.m or after but before 6:00p.m.  For the weekdays, these kids must be in school.”

            “We already noticed that, ‘Lil Red.” Mr. Tanner stated.  “We’re trying to look through the schools systems to see if—”

            “And at least one of these kids must be in a weekend activity.” Zizume interrupted.

            “What do you mean in an activity?” Mr. Tanner gave a bit of a surprised a bit.  “What part of these records makes you think that?”

            “Zizume began thinking this,” Derek explained.  “At first, I didn’t understand why, but she will repeat what she told me to you.”

            Mr. Tanner looked at Zizume, waiting to see what he has to hear.

            “Okay, they’re in school on the weekdays, right?” Zizume began, “So all robberies are usually committed after school before or after homework—I assume.”

            “Go on.”

            “But the weekends…why continue to rob early in the day?”  She began to explain, “It’s the weekend—there’s no school that day or tomorrow.  It’s already a bit more dangerous to commit crimes in the daylight, but on the weekends—you have a better opportunity to rob at night with no worries.  If they do their homework on Friday after school, they don’t have to worry about staying up too late on Sunday—a school night.”

            “Get to the point.” Mr. Tanner rushed.

            “What I’m saying is…why rob in daylight when you have a safer opportunity at night?” Zizume asked rhetorically.  “Well…what if you not able to rob during the night?  What if something is preventing them to rob at night—like an afterschool activity?”

            “Well, I don’t know, ‘Lil Red—don’t you think that’s a bit of a stretch with little evidence to prove so?” Mr. Tanner asked, surprised at her declaration.  “I mean…it’s possible—but do you really think so?”

            “Yes, it is possible—and I could be wrong—but as a semi-criminal ourselves…why not commit crimes at night when you have the safer opportunity given to you?”  Zizume explained.  “Especially when she’s training the others in the criminal ways—besides…a weekend activity can usually help make someone look innocent—I doubt many people go to do other things after robbing a place.”

            “She’s training them?”

            “She’s the leader and appears to be a bit more experience than them—at least…that’s what we think.” Derek reclined in his chair a bit, “We’re just going on a limp with that one.”

            “I see…”

            “I suggest you start looking for kids that have weekends activities that usually start 6:00 or later.” Zizume told Mr. Tanner.

            “Right.” Mr. Tanner nodded.  “What else did you learn?”

            “Well…” Derek reached into his pocket, pulling out a folded piece of paper and unfolded it to reveal a map.  He placed it in front of them, showing highlighted areas.  “A thief may never rob the same place twice…but this group is sticking this this entire area.”

            “Yes, we figured that much.” Mr. Tanner stated.

            “The thing is…I will go and investigate this entire area here and try to catch them myself.  I’m sure I’ll find a pattern and be able to catch them on more quickly.” Zizume said.  “I’ll check out a room in Comfort Inn that’s in the area and stay there until my job is done.”

            “Okay then…” Mr. Tanner sighed, “But are you sure you want to do this job yourself, ‘Lil Red?”

            “They’re criminals hitting Target and Cafés—I’m good.” Zizume smirked.

            “But don’t underestimate them, ‘Lil Red.” Derek told.  “If our guess about them just being in training, they will escalate to bigger things and might get more dangerous.”

            “I know, I know!” Zizume smirked before looking at June, “Check out a room for me at Comfort Inn—ASAP.”

            “Right!” June quickly nodded as she went to the other side of the table, pulling out her phone and began to dial.

            Zizume then looked at Mr. Tanner, “And I’m going to need all of the copy of the evidence to bring with me—even the new ones we gather in the future.”

            “All of it?!” Mr. Tanner practically jumped out of his seat.   “Why?!”

            “Because so I can go over it as much as I need so I can make sure I didn’t miss anything.” Zizume smiled to him, “Oh, again, make sure the police leave my business with me alone.”

            “Do as the girl says.  We signed a contract, remember?” Derek also smiled to him.

            Mr. Tanner gave a defeated sigh, “Fine…as you wish.  I miss how sweet and non-demanding you were when you were little.”

            “Not until I become the leader of this Company—I’m still ‘Lil.” Zizume joked.

            June came back over, handing a notecard over to Zizume, “Your room, the hotel, and street.  I’ve ordered a room under your name.”

            “Good job, Sable!” Derek praised.  He then looked over to his daughter, “Be sure to pack the things you need.”

            “I will.” Zizume nodded.

            “I hope everything turns out well.” Mr. Tanner said.

            “I’ll be leaving tomorrow morning.” Zizume announced.

5: Chapter 5

Chapter 5

            Comfort Inn on West 7th Street, the place where Zizume was staying until she finishes her work.  Derek had accompanied Zizume to her room as June carried the suitcases.  They grabbed the key at the front desk and made their way up to the third floor of the building.  They went ten doors down the hall on the right side and went inside.  June quickly dropped the three suitcases onto the bed and released a deep breath.

            “It would be nice if at least one of you carried the bags!” June pointed out.

            “You’re the intern-secretary lady.  You do these kinds of stuff for us!” Zizume teased.

            “Besides, you have no seniority!” Derek added onto the tease.

            “Lovely.” June rolled her eyes as she placed her hands on her hips, “So…what do you have in here?”

            Zizume walked over and closed the room door, “Clothes—normal and uniform clothing…two guns and extra ammo.  Uhh…one of them has the briefcase of evidence in it…!”

            “…Right.” June then turned to Derek, “So, isn’t it…I don’t know…dangerous for you to be here?  Being the leader of The Company and all…?”

            “We’re out of uniform—I’m just a father who’s dropping his daughter off in this hotel before I leave.” Derek explained with a shrug, “I doubt anyone’s going to recognize me anyways.”

            Zizume began to open the suitcase that had her clothes, picking each folded pile and went to place them in the dresser drawers, “June, can ya help me out?”

            June went and began to help her place the clothes away, “You have a lot of clothes…  How long are you going to be gone?”

            “Not sure…as long as I need it to be, I suppose.” Zizume answered opening a second drawer and started putting clothing in it.

            “How long do you think it’s going to take?”

            “Not sure—I need to get to know these criminals better.  I’ll get back to you on that.”

            Derek began to open up the second suitcase that was filled with black clothing—“uniforms”—and went to place it in the drawer, “You always need to be prepared for things that might take a while.”

            “Why couldn’t you just stay home and come over?” June asked, “You know that they’re going to be sticking here in this entire area, so—?”

            “First—it’s because of time,” Derek began to explain, “Timing is everything.  You can’t be one minute late for everything.  Since they’re sticking around this general area, if we stick around here, we’ll be able to catch them sooner.”

            “Also, it’s dangerous to go directly back and forth between your work and your home.” Zizume added.

            “I see.” June walked over to the second suitcase, but she jumped when she saw that what was left over were guns and ammo, “Geez!  You’re going to get them alive, right?”

            “No promises.” Zizume laughed a little as she went over to suit case.  She pulled some of the black cloth that was lying on the bottom of the suit case and pulled it over the weapons and ammo before zipping it up, “It depends if they want to give up or not.  How fast things will escalate and stuff.”  She placed it under the bed towards the center.

            Derek opened up the third suitcase and pulled out a box.  He went over the room’s table and smiled to Zizume, “Lucky you, the table is long enough!”

            “I rather have it on the table than on the dresser drawer.” Zizume stated.

            “What is it?” June asked with curiosity.

            Derek opened the box and pulled out an antique looking chess board and placed it on the table.  He then pulled out the pieces and began placing them in their place, “Chess.”

            “Chess?  You know how to play chess?” June asked.

            “It helps with your planning and thinking—brain juice stuff.” Zizume explained, pulling out a portable radio and headphones.

            “What’s that radio for?” June asked.

            “To listen to police reports.” Derek answered.

            “I most likely will just be listening to the police reports and current things happening in L.A” Zizume explained, “This can actually get signals for police talking and sending messages.”

            “So…if there’s a robbery and someone calls for help about it, you’ll know about it?”

            “Exactly.” Derek nodded. “Special radio, too—it’s portable.”

            “Nothing special about a portable radio, sir.” June stated.

            “Everything is special in the world, June.” Zizume placed the radio and headphones into the nightstand’s drawer next to her bed along with a notebook and pen.

            “If you say so.” June shrugged.

            When everything was put away, Zizume placed the other two suitcases away under the bed.  “You just don’t understand…yet, possibly.”

            “Zizume, come here.” Derek motioned her over.

            Zizume obeyed, “So…I’m starting now?”

            “Yup.” Derek nodded.

            “Since they made the first move, you go first.” Zizume nodded.

            “I shall then.”

            June watched in curiosity, wondering what they were talking about.  But she was soon found out as she watched.

            “So, they form a group.” Derek moved a pawn forward.  “And they began to rob this part of L.A.” he moved another pawn forward.

            “Then Mr. Tanner came to us and asked for our help, which we accepted and got ready to take action.” Zizume moved a single pawn forward.

            “There, you’re set up now.” Derek smiled.

            “You’re…applying this to chess, am I right?” June asked.  “Okay then…but why?  And how come you, Derek, got to move two pawns in one turn?  Isn’t that against the rules?”

            “Chess is life how we tackle situations in life.” Derek began to explain, “There are times were we win the game, sometimes we have to have a rematch and try again.”

            “I see…”

            “I technically didn’t skip Zizume’s turn—Mr. Tanner didn’t come to us soon enough.  I’m sure there were signs that they were starting to form but weren’t caught.” Derek continued, “And even if she did skip a turn, doesn’t matter.  We’re not playing actual chess.  Life has no rules, so we play our chess a bit…differently.  Accept any opportunities that we can find.”

            “I don’t quite understand…” June admitted, “But okay.”

            “You’ll understand it eventually.” Zizume told her.

            “Now, June, I want you to be coming here to check up on Zizume for me, okay?” Derek turned to the new-girl.

            “Okay then.” June shrugged.

            “Good luck, ‘Lil Zizu.” Dere went and hugged Zizume, “Try your best!”

            “Okay, Daddy!” Zizume hugged back.

            Derek began walked to the door, “Let’s go, June.”

            “Okay then—bye, Zizume.” June began following Derek.

            Derek and June walked out of the room and closed the door behind them.  Zizume went and locked the door before she went to lie on her bed.  She pulled out the briefcase of evidence and the notebook and pen from the nightstand drawer.   She also pulled out the radio and headphones.

            Zizume placed the headphones on her head and turned the radio onto a special station.  She opened the briefcase, pulling out the evidence gather and opened up the notebook and began reviewing while writing down possible theories and ideas.  Zizume even pulled out a map of L.A and began to guess where the Akuryō would strike next.  She looked over to the chess game that was set up on the table.

            “Just like chess…” Zizume murmured to herself, “Simple and complex at once…”

6: Chapter 6

Chapter 6

            “Hey, it’s June, Sable—whatever you call me.” Her voice came from behind the door.  “I came to deliver you something.”

            The door clicked and opened.  Zizume returned to sitting on the bed, crisscrossing her legs as she sat surrounded by papers, photos, and a notebook.  “Close the door.”

            June did as she was told, “What’s with all of that?”

            “Overviewing.  Reviewing.  So on and so forth.” Zizume grabbed the headphones and began to listen in on the police scans and 911 calls.

            “Geez, the entire time you’ve been here?” June shook her head, “Oh!  Mr. Tanner wanted me to give you something.  Boss said that he checked it out and said it was okay; just don’t touch it with your bare fingers.”  She tossed a pouch over to Zizume.

           “Calling him boss?  That sounds so mafia-ish!” Zizume joked as she opened and took a look inside the pouch.

            “Again…this organization or whatever the heck it is—sounds mafia-ish to me!” June said.

            Zizume reached into the nightstand drawer and pulled out two, short, black loves and pulled out the item, “A police badge?”

            “Maybe in case you run into the police or something?” June asked.  “Wait…have you been handling the evidence without gloves?”

            “Don’t worry—this is only the copy.  Mr. Tanner would never give us any original evidence of course.  When we’re done with the copies and the mission, we burn them.”

            “Burn them?”

            “Yup!  But I have a feeling I should be wearing my gloves more often now…” Zizume said, placing a hand over one of the earphones and applied a bit of pressure.

            “Why’s that?”

            “I’m about to gather a bit of more evidence myself.” Zizume quickly tore a page out from the notebook, grabbing her pen and quickly wrote down an address.  She took off the headphones and turned off the radio before throwing it in the nightstand drawer.

            “Why?  What happened?” June asked.

            “Criminals reported to be stealing from Rite Aid.” Zizume said, “Someone called but they instantly hung up—West 6th street.”

            “Rite Aid?  Why would they be stealing from—Zizume!” June quickly turned around.  “Give me a warming—please!”

            “We’re both girls—get over it!”  Zizume had quickly undressed and went to the drawers, pulling out a black skirt and button up shirt with a collar.  She quickly threw her clothes on and grabbed her black belt with pouches and clipped it around her waist.  She quickly pulled out the suit case that had the guns and ammo.  She placed two guns in one of the pouches and a load of ammo in the others.  She grabbed the police badge and pinned it to the pouch flap where one of her guns were at her hip.  Finally, Zizume quickly put on her red heels and her black mask that covered her from forehead to the bridge of her nose.

            “June, how did you get here?” Zizume asked.

            “By the Steve guy—”

            “Good.  Stay here, lock the door—clean up a little, too.  Wear my spare gloves, too.” Zizume quickly ran out the door.

            “W-Wait!” June tried to call out, but the door had already closed.  She gave a sigh, “Great…!  I’m not only an intern, semi-criminal…but also a maid now!”

            Zizume quickly ran down the halls and to the parking lot as fast as she could in her shoes.  She noticed a clean, black Mercedes with really tinted windows.  She quickly ran to it, opening the door and quickly getting in the passenger seat.

            “‘Lil Red.” Steve greeted.

            Steve was wearing his uniform, too—a nice, black, button-up dress shirt, black formal pants, black shoes and he also wore a black belt-pouch like Zizume’s filled with the same things.  His dirty blond hair was combed and gel’d back nicely and he wore black sunglasses over his brown eyes.  His real name is Gower, but everybody calls him Steve.

            “Hey, Steve.” Zizume greeted as she buckled up, “Rite Aid on West 6th Street—get there before the cops.”

            “Rite Aid?  Who would try to rob Rite Aid?” Steve shook his head, “That’s not too far from here—about two minutes.”  He began to grin.

            “Gonna try to break the record?” Zizume smirked.

            “Thirty seconds—tops!” Steve said as he stepped on the gas pedal.

            They quickly drove out of the parking lot, turning left on West 7th street before making a quick turn right on South Burlington Ave.  They kept going straight until the made a right turn on West 6th street and pulled in the parking lot and took in an empty space.

            “Forty five seconds.” Zizume quickly unbuckled her seat belt.

            “Dang it!” Steve sighed in disappointment.

            “Have fun with that disappointment.” Zizume joked.

            “Don’t get shot.” Steve smirked as Zizume closed the door.

 

            Inside the building, the Akuryō had all the people who either worked at Rite Aid or were shopping there sitting all together by the cash register.  Hannya had her Japanese sword, Tachi, pointed at the people, making sure they didn’t move.  She also had her other hand at her hip where her gun was, ready to use it when she needed to.  Ookami was gathering the money by the cash register, placing it all in a green shoulder bag.  Ronin was looking around the store.

            Ronin grabbed a beer from the alcohol aisle and began drinking it.  When he was done filling his thirst, he placed it aside and continuing walking down the aisle until he noticed watches, “Wow…Didn’t know Rite Aid sold these!”

            “Just help yourself, Ronin.” Hannya said as she didn’t remove her eyes from the civilians.

            Ronin smiled as he quickly began to open the box and place the GW056A around his wrist, “Nice.”

            “I got the money.” Ookami stated as she zipped up the bag.

            “Why don’t we get some bonuses from the others then?” Ronin asked joyfully as he walked back over to the other two.

            “Cash only.” Hannya said to the civilians.  “No checks or credit cards.”

            “Wait…what’s that?” Odalis quickly jumped over the counter and stood beside Hannya.

            They heard the sound of a car driving at a fast speed—over the speed limit.  They heard the car screech as it made a turn into the parking lot.  They heard no sirens, meaning it wasn’t the police.  Soon, they saw a woman with red hair, shoes, dressed in black wearing a black mask bursting through the doors with two guns drawn.

            “Hold it!” Zizume ordered.

            Hannya quickly faced Zizume with her sword pointed.  She saw the badge pined to a pouch at her hip, “Who are you?  You’re obviously not a cop!”

            Ronin quickly pulled out his gun and Ookami pulled out her sword, the katakana, and gun.  Zizume didn’t reply at first, observing all of them.  She saw how Ronin stood and how he held his gun.  She saw how his hand with the watch twisted a little in an attempted to adjust it.  She saw Ookami stood with her sword going diagonally in front of her and how she stuck her gun out far.  She took note of how casual Hannya stood, a proper stance with the sword.

            “I repeat—who are you?” Hannya demanded.

            “You made your gun a secondary weapon, Hannya.” Zizume pointed out.  “You have your sword out first.

            “Huh?”

            “That means you know how to properly fight with your sword—at least, you have a general idea.  Someone must have taught you.” Zizume said, “You go with what you’re more comfortable with—your sword.  If not, you would have had your gun out instead for your primary weapon—like Ronin is.”

            Ronin shifted a bit, “Oh yeah? Well—”

            “Let me guess, you weren’t properly trained with a gun, seeing how you hold it and the way you stand.  You probably just hold it any way you like, just as long as it’s comfortable and you know how to work it, am I right?” Zizume smirked.  “Having your gun slightly tilted causes less accuracy, did you know that?”

            “I can hold it any way I like!” Ronin retorted like a teenage boy who wants to have it his way.

            “And Ookami, you’re haven’t really aren’t used to weapons still, are you?” Zizume asked, “You’re using your sword almost like a shield instead of a deadly weapon.  But you have your gun out away from you and outward—your arm is stiff, so you want people to keep their stance from you, almost like you’re giving a warming.”

            Hannya gave a soft chuckle, “I’ve see someone has a keen eye.  And you already know our names—probably from the news.  But I repeat, who are you?”

            “Call me ‘Lil Red.” Zizume replied, “I guess you can say I was hired by the force, police, whatever or something—minus the pay.”

            “It isn’t obvious why you have that nickname.” Ookami stated sarcastically.

            “I’m going to give you a chance.” Zizume said, “You can put your weapons down and surrender…or we can go have it like a showdown like we see in the old west movies!  I suggest the first because it’s easier.  Let me tell you, I won’t go easy.”

            “Let’s have some fun.” Hannya said.

            “First…let the people go and lock the front doors.” Zizume said, “So nobody else gets hurt besides us and when police come, they won’t have to interrupt fast.”

            Hannya nodded at Ookami.  Ookami quickly took the keys from the employs and had everyone leave the building.  When they had left, she quickly locked the doors, “Done.”

            Zizume smiled, “Now, who wants the first—?”

            At that moment, Ronin quickly shot the first bullet.  Zizume quickly dodged and rolled on the ground.  She quickly went and hid in the aisles and behind shelves.  Hannya pulled out her gun and walked as she carefully looked down the aisle.  Ronin and Ookami searched within the aisles.

            Ookami caught sight of Zizume and quickly began firing without aim.  Zizume quickly dropped to the floor and shot up at Ookami.  Panicked, Okami quickly moved her sword in a position where it blocked the bullet and quickly ran for cover.

            “Seriously?!  Doesn’t that only happen in fiction?!” Zizume complained in disbelief.

            She turned and saw Ronin behind her.  As he shot, Zizume quickly ducked and began to fire back at Ronin.  He quickly stopped and made moved out of site.  Zizume quietly walked into a different aisle.  When Hannya caught Zizume, they began to fire at each other.  Since Zizume was a better shot than Hannya, Hannya quickly hid behind the counter, popping her head up every few seconds to shoot—she was much better at wielding a sword than shooting a gun.

            Zizume quickly hid behind a couple of shelves before moving into a different aisle.  She breathed as quietly as she could, waiting to hear where the other two might be.  She paused for a moment, slowly began to remove the items from one of the shelves to look through the holes.  She saw someone walking in the aisle next to hers, causing a shadow from blocking light.

            She took a deep breath and prepared herself.  With as much force as she could get, she quickly ran herself into the shelf.  It tipped, but it wasn’t going to fall over—until she kicked it and ran into it once more.  The shelf began to topple over and fell on Ronin’s legs and Zizume lay on the shelf.

            “Okay…!  That hurt for the bust of us…!” Zizume groaned as she slowly and carefully got off the shelf she had pushed over.  Ronin quickly pulled himself out from under and rubbed his legs a bit before pointing his gun at Zizume.

            “Say goodbye, pretty lady!”

            “Ronin!  Ookami!” Hannya quickly started to run towards the back, “Cops are coming!  Forget about her and let’s go!”

            Ronin gave a grunt of dissatisfaction before he quickly got up and followed Hannya and Ookami out towards the back.  Zizume picked up her guns, putting them away as she stood up.  She looked up at any security cameras, seeing that they were turned off.  She looked around and grabbed a couple of grocery bags and opening a couple of zip-lock bags.

            Zizume first grabbed the beer and placed it in a large zip-lock bag.  She quickly searched the ground until she found a few bullets and placed them in a small bag—hoping they weren’t hers; what she needed was the enemy’s fired bullets.  She went to the empty watch box and placed it in a large zip-lock bag.  When Zizume was done collecting what she needed, she placed them all in the grocery bag and quickly ran out to the back of the building.

            She pulled out her phone, “Hey, Steve, come pick me up at the back of the building.  I finished everything here and got what I needed.”

7: Chapter 7

Chapter 7

            The Akuryō returned to their residents.  They had quickly locked the doors and closed all the blinds.  Their leader, Hannya, began kicking anything she that stood in front of her out of anger.  Ronin sat in a small sofa chair, aching with slight pain and muttering to himself as he played with his new wrist-watch.  Ookami was pacing back in forth, holding an antique, catholic rosary in her hands tightly as she paced back and forth.  Kabuki and Hell Cat stood together in the corner, watching Hannya fume with innocent, worried eyes.

            “Who the hell was that woman?!” Hannya shouted as she paced.

            “Don’t know…but she sure was good looking as hell though!” Ronin slid his mask to the side of his face and revealed a grin before he rubbed his legs, “Sure is a fighter…and pretty smart, too…”

            “That’s not answering my question!”  Hannya quickly stopped her pacing, turning to Ronin as she removed her mask.  “Who was she?!  She was obviously not a cop!”

            “Oh yeah?  How do you know?” Ronin placed the mask over his face once more, leaving his mouth uncovered though, having his head fall back as if he was trying to fall asleep with crossed arms.  “She had a badge, didn’t she?”

            “Yes…but besides the fact she didn’t wear the uniform, she came before the cops…  She didn’t even deny the fact that I made an assumption that she wasn’t with the cops—making my statement true.” Hannya explained.  “She’s very observant, too…but I doubt she’s any detective…  Who was she?”

            “She’s observant…too observant?!” Ookami asked in a panicking tone as she removed her mask, “What if she discovers who we are and turns us in—or kills?!”

            “I don’t want to be killed…” Hell Cat stated quietly as Kabuki reached for his hand.

            “You won’t get killed if you are all careful and do as I say.” Hannya stated as she began to pace and think.

            Ookami laced her hands together with the rosary and bowed her head:

“Oh Señor, Jesucristo,

Redentor y Salvador,

perdona mis pecados,

al igual que tú perdonaste la negación de Pedro

y los que te crucificaron.

Cuente no mis rebeliones, pero,

más bien, mis lágrimas de arrepentimiento.

No te acuerdes de mis pecados, pero,

más especialmente—”

            “If you have to pray, please speak English.” Ronin groaned, “It irritates me when I can’t understand someone…stupid enough that you think God is going to save you after everything we’re doing…!”

            Ookami glared at Ronin before she repeated her prayer—but in English this time:

“Oh Lord, Jesus Christ,

Redeemer and Savior,

forgive my sins,

like you forgave Peter's denial

and you crucified.

Count not my transgressions, but,

rather, my tears of repentance.

Remember not my sins, but,

more particularly,

my sorrow for the offenses I have committed against you.

I have a great desire to be faithful to His Word,

and we pray that You love me

and come to dwell in me.

I agree to give praise and glory in love

and service every day of my life.  Amen.”

            “...I think this woman might be out of the law—almost like us…” Hannya thought out loud to herself as she sat down.  “…Or something along the lines of a hired cop—no…no, she’s not that… a bounty hunter then…?  I don’t recall anything being on our heads…”

            “Who cares?” Ronin sighed deeply, irritation showing in his voice.

            “We all should.” Hannya replied, “Us caring about this woman about will determine our life and death.”

            “Why?” Kabuki asked.

            She began to grin as she placed gently placed her cheek on her fist, “I have a feeling we’ll be seeing her again…very soon…”

8: Chapter 8

Chapter 8

            Zizume sat on the bed in her purple pajamas pants and button up top while listening to police scans.  Her red hair lay all around the pillow her head rested on.  She had her chins lightly lifted upward as her granny-smith apple green eyes stared tiredly with boredom at the ceiling, having her hands laced over her stomach.  She took a deep breath, releasing a heavy sigh as she looked at the clock that said 8:30pm.

            “Hey, it’s me, Sable.” June knocked on the door.

            “What’s the secret password?” Zizume smiled to herself as she sang song’d.

            “What password?!”

            “The secret password, silly girl!”

            “Nobody told me one!  Can’t you tell it’s me?”

            “What if you’re an assassin that’s good at imitating voices, huh?  An assassin hired to get me!”

            “…The Company is filled with assassins!  You’re worried about them now?”

            Zizume took off the headphones and turned off the radio.  She got up and opened the door for June, “Hey!  Keep it down—cops are still enemies, remember?”  She went and sat down on the bed.

            “I thought they were ‘friend-enemies’.” June pointed out as she closed the door and locked it.  “So…you’ve been in here all day?”

            “Yeah…they didn’t go out today.” Zizume said, “I think that’s pretty smart—I think they know I’m watching them closely…they might be even a little confused since they know I’m not a cop or anything.”

            “But how smart are they compared to you?” June asked before smiling as she guessed the answer, “Let me guess… ‘Nobody’s smart as I’?”

            “Hmm…I wouldn’t exactly say that…  That Ronin guy isn’t too bright…but I wouldn’t say the same thing for the girl with the blue hair.” Zizume answered.  “…By the way, it’s ‘Smart as me’ not ‘I’.  Psh, you’re terrible at grammar.  Oh!  What’s the papers in your hands?”

            “Oh, it’s the results from the things you gave the investigators yesterday—you know, from the scene of your fight yesterday?” June stated as she handed the papers over to Zizume.  She silently muttered, “You’re the one that’s bad at grammar.”

            “This is the copy—not the actual one, right?” Zizume asked.

            “Of course—your dad, Big Red, made sure of it.” June answered.

            “It says that the bullets were from a 9mm gun…” Zizume sighed in disappointment.  “So that means either I picked up my own bullets or they use the same gun as me…that narrows things down by a lot.  Then again, I should have known—if they do use the same gun type as The Company—since it is more common and easier to carry around and hide…”

            “Since you’re supposed to be an expert at this, shouldn’t you tell what gun they had just by looking at it?” June asked.

            “Hey, I was more focused on observing their stances and personality and what-not!” Zizume explained, “Not too much paying attention with the gun and weapons!”

            “Well…let’s say if they do have the same gun as you—”

            “Which they do.” Zizume stated as her eyes continued to scan the papers.

            “Okay, so, they do have the same guns…does that seriously tell you anything?” June asked.

            “Well…they knew they wanted something small and light weight…maybe cheap, too—after all, they weren’t stupid enough to go for the nice, shiny, fancy looking guns.  Or that they’re low on money even if they did want to get the fancy guns—I know Ronin would be that type of guy…he isn’t too bright.” Zizume began to explain, “Unless it’s the leader’s, Hannya’s, idea…but this is more theorizing than based on facts…it’s too early to tell—somewhat.  I’m going with it’s easier to carry and it’s common and cheaper.”

            “I see…  So you have no real idea?”

            “It says here that they might pull a good-enough fingerprints off of the box he grabbed—you know the one with the wrist-watch box?”

            “Oh, they said that he possibly didn’t soak his fingers well enough or has been lazy or something, so they might be able to pull off a print.  We’ll know by sometime tomorrow.” June explained.

            “They’re so slow…  I’m sure my team would have it by tonight!” Zizume said with pride.

            “Sure, sure.” June just waved it off.

            “Is there anything else?” Zizume asked.

            “Mm…you father said he wants you to go to the bank and to gets some money from ‘your account’.” Junko answered, doing the finger quotes.

            “…Why are you trying to ‘hint’?” Zizume asked, also doing the finger quotes.  “We legally have our own bank accounts you know!”

            “Sure, ‘legally’.” Junko simply continued.  “Anyways, besides that, that’s all you have to do.”

            “I see….okay then!”

            “I’ll be leaving now.” Junko said as she went to go walk out the door, “Night.”

            “Sweet dreams!” Zizume waved as Junko left.  She turned off the light beside her and went to sleep.

            The next morning, Zizume woke up early, listening to police reports as usual.  It was a weekend; the criminals wouldn’t commit crimes until around twelve—maybe a little after.  She ate in bed and flipped through the news channels.  Nothing about the Akuryō.  She looked at the clock that told it was 3:00pm. 

        She decided to get dress, not wearing her uniform, but instead she wore an elbow-length sleeved green top with a white camisole underneath.  She also wore beige, feminine capris and her favorite red heels that she always wears.  She took a black woman’s shoulder that contained not only what a normal female purse would have, but also her uniform (in a tightly concealed airlock-vacuum bag) and two 9mm guns.  After calling June to come watch over her room for her, she left to go visit the bank as her father requested.

        Zizume drove to Wells Fargo on Wilshire Blvd, driving in a red full size car.  She parked her car in the parking lot in front of the building, walking to go inside.  There were three lines; she waited in the line that was in the middle, waiting for her turn.  She had cash ready—she rarely uses checks because of the way her father raised her.  Finally she, she was first in line.

        “Next?” called the man.

        “Hello, Zizume Walker’s account.” Zizume smiled, “I’m making a deposit.”

        “And cash as usual?” The man said, hearing someone calling his name.  “Before I take that—be right back, they’re calling me.  It’ll just be a moment.”

        “Oh, that’s fine!” Zizume waved it off.  The man left.

        Zizume waited in line, giving a sigh.  She looked around—and something caught her eye.  As she looked to one of the security cameras in the corner, she noticed the red light that told that it was one—went off.  She looked at any other security cameras she could find in sight—also turned off.  She quickly began to look around—it had to be them!  They must be here!

        “Next.” The woman in the next lane called.  A man walked up.

        His hair was brown and messy.  His eyes were light brown and he had a defined, inverted triangular jawline.  He wore white jeans, a white crew neck t-shirt, and white sneakers.  As he began to flirt with the lady in line, he began to twist his wrist a little in attempt to adjust the GW056A watch that was secured to his wrist.  Zizume knew who it was, even by his voice, but she didn’t dare speak a word.

9: Chapter 9

Chapter 9

            “Ha!  Full house!  I win again!” Ryan laughed loudly as he slapped his cards down on the table.  He opened his arms wide as he pulled the money pile towards him, causing the other players to groan.

            Ryan Yount, a young man of twenty nine.  He wore his usual attire—black crew neck, dark brown leather jacket, dark blue jeans with a black belt, and brown laced-boots that were tied very loosely.  His hair always looked messy, saying he just got a bad choppy hairstyle from a bad stylist or he did it himself because he didn’t have the money, the excuse would change every time.  When he would smile, it would always be a sly or mischievous grin.

            Ryan would always visit bars—they may not be the popular ones, but he would sleep during the day, drink all night.  He didn’t smoke often as most smokers would, maybe one cigarette a week.  He would enjoy flirting with the women he found attractive, whistling before he would be rejected most of the time.  But what he did every night was play poker—that’s how he would get money for rent for his run-down apartment and the food he’d eat.  Ryan would win big almost every game—he’d make sure to play those who risk everything they have in their pocket.

            “Ryan remains undefeated this week.” An older man tossed his cards down, “I give up!”

            “Come on, guys!” Ryan began shuffling the cards, “One more game!”

            “I’m all out of cash, Ryan!” another man stated.

            “Credit cards?”

            “Hell no!”

            “How about this week’s paycheck?”

            “You’re just money hungry, aren’t you?”

            “Rent is going to need to be paid—again.”

            The men at the table all gave an “ah”.  Ryan just grinned as he shook his head, his hand still busy with the cards.  The men couldn’t play poker anymore and they soon began to get up to leave the table.

            “Come on!  Anyone?  Come on!  Ladies like men who gamble!” Ryan joked loudly for all to hear.

            “I’ll play.” A man came up to the table, taking an empty seat right across from him.  “Names George.”

            “Ryan.” He introduced himself as he dealt the cards.  “Have I played you before?”

            “Nah, I just heard you were a good player, might as well play you.” George replied.

            “Well then…good luck!” Ryan chuckled.

            The two continued to play.  Both had a very good poker face, not giving away their hands.  After a fold or hold or two, they decided to lay down their cards.  The money pile had grown large, both risking a lot.

            “Straight flush!” Ryan grinned, tossing his cards to the table, “I’ll be taking the—”

            “Royal flush.” George laid down his card neatly.  “Lovely play with you!”

            “Woah, woah, woah!” Ryan quickly got up from his seat, “No, no, no!  You cheated!”

            “Did not!”

            “Oh, yes you did!”

            “Callin’ me a liar!?”

            “Yes!”

            The two quickly got in each other’s face.  Everyone knew Ryan, if he lost a game, a fight would be started.  Everyone quickly surrounded the two and began to try their best to calm the men down.  Ryan’s fist began to clutch as tight as he could.

            “Come on, man!  Just let him go!”

            “Yeah!  It’s not worth it!  We’ll help you pay rent!”

            “Come on, don’t do this again!  You’re going to get kicked out like last time!”

            “Just let it go, man, let it go!”

            Ryan sighed.  He took his liquor and chugged it down before he began to leave the table.  But right when he met George’s side, he punched him square in the cheekbone.  Everyone quickly separated the two and eventually Ryan was kicked out.  One of his friends had bought a bottle of beer for him, giving it to him before he returned to the bar.

            Ryan sat far out in the large, wide parking lot.  He sighed as he began drinking his beer, “Damn cheater…!”

            A young girl began walking up to Ryan.  She wore a brown, thin, v-neck sweater and a knee-length pink skirt that moved freely as she walked.  Her hair was tied in a low pony tail and hanging on her shoulder was a purse.

            “Hey pretty girl!” Ryan instantly began flirting, being far from sober. “What ya doin’ all alone at night?  Heading to the bar here?”

            She stood in front of Ryan, “Were you kicked out?”

            “Ugh, yeah.” He groaned.

            “For what?”   

            “Punchin’ a cheater.”

            “Cheater?”

            “Cheated me in poker.  I have no money—I’m completely broke.”

            “Don’t you have a job?”        

            “I live off of poker!”

            “So you’re a bum?”

            “Hey, watch it!” Ryan narrowed his eyes.

            She knelt down in front of Ryan and smirked, “So…do you like money?”

            “Who doesn’t?” he laughed.

            “Would you enjoy getting a lot of money?”

            “Where are you going with this…?”

            “I know…ways to get money—I need some help…” she grinned.

            “Ways?  Are you talking about thieving?”

            The two remained silent for a moment.  The girl began laughing softly.

            “What?  Not interested?”

            Ryan stared down at his beer with wide eyes, “…I’m just being drunk, right?  A cute, young lookin’ girl…asking me to help her commit crimes?”

            “Just robbery.”

            “It must be the beer!”

            “How are you going to pay for rent?”

Ryan stared up at her, “…What?”

            “Your apartment—how are you going to pay for it?  Isn’t it pretty…crummy?  Food—how are you going to eat?  You’ll be living out on the streets in no time.”

            “How did you—?”

            “What’s it going to be?” She slightly shifted forward with a grin.

            Ryan stared down at his beer, rotating the bottle in his hand slowly as he felt the movement of the liquid.

            “What’s holding you back?  You’re going to lose your home, you got nothing to eat, no family—what’s holding you back?  I thought you were a man without morals.”

            “I don’t know…” Ryan began rubbing his head, “Can’t you ask me when I’m sober?”

            The girl reached into her purse, pulling out a stack of cash as she placed it in his hand, “You can get more than this every day.”

            Ryan stared at the cash before looking back up at her, “…What’s your name again?”

10: Chapter 10

Chapter 10

        “Sorry for making you wait.” The man returned.

        “I-It’s fine!  A-Actually…do you have a restroom?” Zizume asked.

        “Oh, sure, just go straight down to your left.” He replied.

        “Thank you.” Zizume thanked before going to the direction.  The man, one that Zizume was observing, took notice of her—taking notice of her hair and red shoes.

        She quickly went into the women’s bathroom.  She waited until the last two women left before she quickly locked the restroom door’s lock, using paper towel to hide her finger prints as she did so.  She quickly pulled out her uniformed, her clothes gaining with as she opened the tightly concealed bag.  She quickly dressed out of her normal clothes and into her uniform.  She placed her mask on and placed on her favorite red shoes.  She quickly hid the bag just behind the garbage can in the bathroom after she took out her two guns.

        She walked out to find a strange woman who stopped right behind the lines.  She had hair that was raven black that was cut straight across and rested at her shoulders, her bangs were cut straight across, too.  Her skin was burnt sienna color and she wore a long, black over coat and black sunglasses.  She quickly unbuckled her coat to quickly pull out a gun and shot a bullet in the air.

        “Everyone, get down!” she ordered.  Zizume quickly hid from sight.

“All of you!  Way from behind the counters!  All of you!” Ryan, now wearing his mask, demanded as he held out his gun.

        â€‹Zizume kept out of sight the best she could and sat still as if frozen to stone.  There only two in the room at the moment, she needed to wait for the third one—Hannya.  She didn’t want to enter a fight unless she knows where everyone stood.  If she was in midst of a fight, it wouldn’t be good if she was distracted when the leader enters to aid the two.  Then again, two against one is better than three against one.  After deciding what to do, Zizume decided it would be best to wait for Hannya to enter.  She didn’t have to wait too long.

        After a minute or so, Hannya enter wearing her full costume with her sword out, “How’s it going here, Ookami, Ronin?”

        “Everyone’s behaving well if that’s what you mean.” Ookami removed her wig to reveal her colorful hair as she placed the gun away for a quick second to place her mask over her face as she quickly removed the glasses.  He coat remained opened as she pulled out her gun once more along with her sword.

        “Got lots of greens here!” Ronin grinned before he stopped grabbing the money, “But…I almost forgot.”

        “What is it?” Hannya asked.

    â€‹    Ronin turned to the man who had stood behind the register, “The woman with the red hair that you talked to, where is she?”

            “I-I-I don’t now!” the man replied as he coward.

        “Don’t lie to me!” Ronin knelt down and held his gun to his head, “No need to protect her!”

        “What are you talking about Ronin?” Oookami asked.

        “I saw a woman here with red hair and she had a familiar voice.” Ronin paused before he continued, “I don’t think you, Ookami, saw her leave the door nor did I—and I’m not seeing any red-head lying here on the floor.”

        “You don’t suppose…?”

        “I’m supposin’ alright!” Ronin returned to the man, “Tell me where she is!”

        “Sh-Sh-She’s—”

        “Right here.” Little Red quickly revealed herself, not wanting the man to get hurt.

        “I hope you know your disguise isn’t useful when you have red hair like that along with the fact that everyone here already seen you before.” Ronin mocked.

        “Technically, if everyone keeps their mouths shut, I’m good.” Zizume stated with a shrug, “I mean, I only went and change when you guys turned the camera off—thanks by the way!”

        “Enough chatting!” Hannya took a step towards Zizume and pointed her sword at her, “You’re exposed—you have nowhere to run!  Three against one, I would say the odds are against you.”

        Little Red held the guns tightly in her hand, ready to pull the trigger.  She stood completely still in her spot, quickly examining her situation.  Probably wasn’t a good idea to come out in the open like this! Zizume thought to herself.  I should have at least planned where I should have stood when I exposed myself so I can somehow have a better chance than this! 

        She continued to examine her situation.  Ronin and Ookami both had their guns out, even if she tried to make a move, surely one will get her—if she’s not careful of course.  Usually if she makes a move, then they would most likely shoot at once—she was fifty percent sure they would shoot the same time which would cause a miss!  But then there’s the problem with Hannya…  She has her sword out, but she could possibly pull out her gun within a second and help with the shooting.  But even if she didn’t pull out her gun, she still had that sword.  Zizume knew she couldn’t get anywhere near her in case of the sword and the others’ shooting.  She could try to see if she could go behind the counter in time, but that would mean endangering the civilians.  Her mind observed her situation with all the possible solutions within a few seconds.  Within that few seconds, she came up with plan—a risky plan that most likely wouldn’t work and end her life.  But hey, isn’t that how chess works when one doesn’t wish to lose easily?

        “Put you guns down unless you want to get hurt!” Ookami ordered.  “Put them on the ground!”

        Zizume held the guns facing up and her fingers away from the trigger.  She stared at them directly in the eyes as she took a not too big or small step forward and then stopped.

        “Stay where you are and put the guns down!” Hannya ordered.

        She took another step forward.

        "Are you deaf?” Ronin quickly walked forward, holding the gun to Zizume’s chest, “Put the gun—”

        Little Red quickly pushed his arm upward as she quickly arched herself backwards as far as her back could, making sure she didn’t get anywhere near the gun as Ronin fired it.  She went too far though, causing herself to hit the floor.  As she lay on her back, she quickly kicked Ronin’s ankles hard enough to cause him to fall forward on top of her.  The red head swiftly took the gun from Ronin’s hand and locked her arms around him.  Together, they sat up as Zizume placed the gun to the man’s head.

        “Okay…it should be just about even now…” Zizume exhaled.

        “I knew you found me attractive.” Ronin joked.  “Rather close, aren’t we?”

        “Oh, shut up!” Zizume rolled her eyes, “You’re in no position to joke.”

        “…Well, you are holding me in sorta a tight hug, don’t you think?”

        Lil'Red ignored him, “I know what I’m doing now…I’m still in a land mine…for all I know, you couldn’t give any cares about him and try to kill me even if it brings him down…but how am I doing so far?”

        The other two remained silent.

        “Okay then.  Now, Ronin, stand up.” Little Red ordered, and he obeyed.  “Good boy.”

        “…We can simply leave him behind.” Hannya pointed out.

        “Leave him behind?!” Ookami looked at the leader, her voice completely surprised.

        “Oh…so you could care less about him, am I right?” Little Red asked.

        “…Ookami, let’s go.” Hannya ordered.  “We have what we need.”

       “We can’t leave him behind!” Ookami began to sound upset, worried for her friend.  “How can we just—?!”

            “I said let’s go!” the masked girl barked once more.

        Ookami, with great hesitation, walked out as Hannya stood with her sword pointed at the woman dressed in black.  Hannya sheathed her sword, “You won’t shoot me at this moment, am I right?  Since you do have your only weapon on Ronin here and the other gun is close by—which, you don’t want him to get, so you’re busy trying to restrict him, am I right?  You’re stuck there, aren’t you?”

        “…I suppose I am.” Lil'Red responded honestly.

        “Good.  But you should know I try my best not to leave any evidence behind.”  Hannya said cooly.

        Within a slit second, the leader of the Akuryō pulled out her gun and fired two shots at Ronin, causing the civilians to scream as Hannya ran out the door.  Zizume wasn’t restricting Ronin anymore, but instead she held him to help support him and his bleeding body.  Zizume felt a little shaken up inside—just a bit…even though she heard of people doing things like this to their own members, she never had seen it with her own eyes.  She gently laid him down on his side, trying not to cause any further pain to him.

        “I’m so sorry…” Zizume apologized as she looked amongst the civilians, “Somebody, call an ambulance!”

11: Chapter 11

Chapter 11

            At Comfort Inn on West 7th street, Zizume sat in her room at the table where the chess board had been placed.  Zizume was tapping her finger on one of the enemy’s pawns, trying to decide whether to remove it or not.  Her facial expression was intense with concentration.  June was sitting at the edge of the bed, watching as she finally released a sigh.

            “Are you going to remove it or not?” June asked.

            “I’m not sure…” Zizume murmured in reply.  “It all depends if he’s alive or not…”

            “You don’t know yet?”

            “I’m only supposed to receive that information or from the cops.” Zizume explained, “I haven’t found out yet since Mr. Tanner didn’t give me any news yet.”

            “Why not find out for yourself or have one of your co-workers do it for you?”

            “Dad wants me to do this with little help as possible—I only have you and Steve for this mission.  Plus, I could blow my cover if I try to check up on him.”

            “How?”

            “What if Hannya tries to check up on him, too?  Finds out that I paid a visit or that I had made a call.  No, too dangerous—even if I could find a way eventually without blowing my cover, I don’t have much time and it’s easier to get a call from Mr. Tanner.”

            “Oh…”

            The two women stop talking and the room was practically silent if wasn’t for Zizume’s finger tapping one of the pawns.

            “…You…you don’t feel bad about what happened with that guy, do you?” June finally asked.

            “No…” Zizume answered, eyes still focused on the pawn.  “No, Ryan was a stupid man—I have no close relations, so…”

            “But, he did get shot and if he died…and you were the on holding onto him…” June pointed out carefully, trying not to push too much into the subject.

            “Look, June.” Zizume turned so she could face her friend, “I have shot people before.  I have seen people die and I have seen my co-workers injured.  This isn’t my first mission.  I’m not a rooky.”

            “Then what is bugging you so much?” June asked.

            “…Well…Hannya shot her own member…” Zizume began with a sigh, turning back to the chess board.  “I haven’t really seen that strategy before…  I grew up hearing about it, being taught about it and everything…just, I’ve never seen it.  It wouldn’t have bugged me so much if she wasn’t so young…  I mean, to be so young and have that much guts to do that—It just…surprises me.  It shows how dead serious she is…how she knows what she’s doing.  She has everything planned—will to take extreme measures.”

            “That’s bugging you?  Didn’t expect this?”

            “I thought it was a game of smarts at first.  But now I see that I’ve underestimated her.” She answered, “This is a game of intelligence.”

            “What’s the difference between game of intelligence and a game of smarts?” June asked.

            “Smarts, you can gain through experiences.  You learn how to be smart.” Zizume explained, “Intelligence is something you’re born with.”

            “…Oh.”

            “You still don’t get it, don’t you?”

            “Not really.”

            “Rooky.”

            “Hey!”

            “Listen.  Carefully.  Anyone can be smart, but not everyone is intelligent.”

            “Aren’t they the same?”

            “Of course not!  Smart people tend to make stupid mistakes!  They learn through experiences—applying what you know.  Intelligent people are more careful, more intellectual, being able to learn.  Get it?”

            “Not really.”

            “Forget it.” Zizume sighed as she gave up.  “But that’s not the point—I could have made a stupid mistake with my assumption.”

            June tried to give comfort, “Don’t worry, you’ll win.”

            “It’s not about winning, June.”

            “Gosh, nothing satisfies you!”

            “I’ll be satisfied if I know if Ryan is dead or not.”

            “…Hey, Zizume…have you ever killed someone before?”

            “…Probably without knowing.”

            “Without knowing?”

            “I get into fights, but I never check the damage that I’ve done.”

            “So you won’t feel guilt?”

            “Is there a reason why I should?”

            “Geez, are you guys just killers?  Assassins?  Mafia-Gang?  What?”

            “You still don’t get it, do you?”

            “No!  Am I supposed to from the get go?”

            Zizume began to explain, “The best way I can put it is that The Company is a distorted society.  We have our own rules.  We have our own leaders.  We have our own upper, middle, lower, and working classes.  We’re made up of individuals and we make our own families.  We’re a black spot on this world’s society.  We do our own thing.  We’re anything we want to be.”

            “…It’s sounds like you’ve been brainwashed with this stuff since you were a kid.” June rolled her eyes.

            “If I’m brainwashed, so are you!”

            “How?!”

            “Weren’t you raised with your parents’ ideals and ways?”

            “Well…yes, but—”

            “You then must agree with what they taught you, right?  That’s what most people do.  It’s what you were raised and told to think.  That’s what your society does.  They tell you how to think.  My society allows us to be what we really are.  My dad just gives me the ropes of how things work, but he tells me I can work things the way I want to.”

            “…God, you’re a group of conspirators!”

            “Shut up.”

            “You shut up!  …Wait, I thought I was part of your society?”

            “No.  You have to earn it.  You still are stuck with your old ways.”

            June’s special phone began to ring and she answered it, “Hello?”

            “Company Member—civilian.” Derek’s voice came over the phone.

            “Derek?  What’s up?”

            “Mr. Tanner gave me some news about Mr. Yount.  …Ryan is a live—barely.  The two shots hit his upper back, which means they hit the vital organs in the ribcage.  One punctured his lung while the other grazed his heart pretty badly.  He’s alive, but he won’t be talking any time soon.  He’s still under careful watch.  Tell Lil’ Red this.” And then he ended the call.

            “…Ryan’s alive, but barely.  He’s pretty badly injured and won’t be giving out information any time soon…” June told the message.

            Zizume removed one of her own pawns and placed to the side, then she moved one of the opponents pawns forward.  “This slows us down…what a gutsy girl she is…  I should really stop underestimating her…”

            “Now what?” June asked.

            “What else is there to do but simply wait for our next turn…”

12: Chapter 12

Chapter 12

            She sat at a table near the kitchen in her modest one bedroom apartment, staring out her single, thin window with gloom as she looked far down at the busy cars in the streets as she drunk her coffee.  Bills were piling on the table she sat at, just about every one say “overdue.”    The muscles in her upper back were always tensed with stressed and her blue eyes showed they had received little sleep.  She would give a heavy sigh from time to time.

            She moved her purple dyed hair with four or five green streaks behind her ear.  Her hair style was short and choppy, her hairline greatly revealed a very apparent widow’s peak just in the center where her forehead begins.  Her skin was of burnt sienna and her jawline was squared and greatly defined.  Her full, thick lips were slightly frowned and looked as though they had been frozen like so for quite a long time.

            Odalis Capello was a woman of twenty five, though she looked five years older.  She usually wore unflattering clothing and mismatching colors.  She truly hated what she did with her hair.  She honestly didn’t feel beautiful.  Her body had no curves at all, but had muscle definition.  Her life, she thought, had truly taken a downturn for the worse. 

        She was what she thought at the time, happily married.  They lived in a beautiful two story house and were on their way to making their dreams come true.  When they couple wanted to have a family of their own, they had difficulty and later found out that Odalis was sterile.  Odalis later wanted to adopt, but her husband had no intention of doing so.  Later he began to spend money wastefully almost leading them into debt.  They started to argue and fight a lot until finally they had a divorce.  Her ex-husband had taken a very large chunk of the money and won over their dream house.  Too soon her ex-husband remarried to a woman Odalis thought to be far too young for him.  She job didn’t quite pay well, but she worked so hard to keep a roof over her head and just enough to eat.  She wasn’t poor—struggling, she thought, but not poor.  Life was difficult, she admitted, but she wasn’t going to give up.  She attended her Catholic church every Sunday as it gave her hope to continue on strong.

        The buzzer signaling a visitor went off.  She sighed, already knowing it was.  Odalis allowed him up and opened the door, “What do you want, Marthan?”

        â€‹Marthan, her ex, smiled as he held out an envelope to her, “I heard you’re having money problems—so here!”

        “No thank you.” Odalis went to shut the door on him, but he stopped her.

        “Come on!  Don’t tell me you’re still mad at me!”

        “Of course I’m not mad—you only left me in the dirt and married a woman much younger than yourself.”

        “Oh!  You’re pulling that one again!” Marthan shook his head and placed the envelope away.  “Well, if you don’t want it, fine!  I just wanted to help you out!”

        “Why do you want to help me out?  You never wanted anything to do with me unless it was to shove something in my face.  So, what are you here for?”

        “Well…I just wanted to let you know that you should start congratulating me!” Marthan began chuckling, “I’m finally going to be a father!”

        Odalis’s heart was done.  It had broken in pieces and those pieces fell past the pits of her stomach.  She quickly began to close the door, “Get out!”

        Marthan laughed as he forced the door to stay open, “What’s wrong?  You should be happy for me!  Isn’t that what God says?  Be happy for others or some shit?”

        “I said, ‘get out’!”

        “I’m not even inside your house, Odalis!”

        Odalis threw open the door and stepped outside of her home.  She was mad—no, furious!  She saw red and her heart ached.

        “What makes you think you have the right to come visit me and treat me the way you do?!” Odalis started shouting as she got in his face, taking steps forward as Marthan took steps back.  “We’re divorced!  Doesn’t that mean anything to you?!  It means that I don’t ever want to see your face again!”

        “Woah, Odalis, calm down—!”

        “Don’t tell me to calm down!  Ever since you married that furcia you’ve been nothing but cruel to me!” she continued taking steps forward as he took steps back.  “You always come to me only to boast about how fabulous your life has been while I’m just trying to survive myself!”

    â€‹    â€‹“Odalis—!”

        “No!  I’m so tired of you, you—you hijo de perra!  I’ve been miserable because of you!  So just—just!  Just get out of my face!” she screamed as tears fell down her face, “I wish I don’t ever see from you or hear from you ever again!  Not even a walk down the same street!  ¡Me gustaría que te morirías!”

        How she didn’t realize how she had gone too far—well, how she had gone to close.  Marthan had continued to walk backwards and when she gave her final words—he missed a step and tumbled down the stairs.  He tumbled down each step until his body made a final thud.  Odalis clasped her hands over her mouth and gave wide eyes.  She quickly ran down the steps as fast as she could to kneel down beside Marthan’s limp body.

        She shook him and called his name, “Marthan?  Marthan!  Are you alright, Marthan?!”  But he gave no answer.  She shook him once more but his didn’t open.  Odalis wavered as she reached out her wide hands, placing her fingers against his neck.  No pulse.

“Oh God…oh dear God!”  Odalis stumbled up and away from the corpse.

        She panicked!  What was she to do?!  Odalis’s mind began to race.  What if they think I killed him?!  I was the one that wished for his death aloud!  God, I didn’t want this!  I really didn’t want my wish to come true!  Oh God!  What do I do?!  She quickly began to run as fast as she could away from her apartment, she didn’t even bother taking her car.

        She ran far and fast, tears streaming down her face.  She didn’t know where to run to, but she kept running.  Should I go to church or the cathedral?!  Confess my sin?!  But such thought made her feel tainted, too unholy to even attend the house of God anymore.  She thought of turning  Odalis stopped and pulled out a rosary and began praying her favorite prayer:

Oh Señor, Jesucristo,
Redentor y Salvador,
perdona mis pecados,
al igual que tú perdonaste la negación de Pedro
y los que te crucificaron.
Cuente no mis rebeliones, pero,
más bien, mis lágrimas de arrepentimiento.
No te acuerdes de mis pecados, pero,
más especialmente,
mi dolor por las ofensas que he cometido contra ti.
Tengo muchos deseos de ser fiel a Su Palabra,
y oramos para que Tú me encanta
y vienen a hacer su morada en mí.
Me comprometo a dar alabanza y gloria en el amor
y en el servicio todos los días de mi vida.
Amén

        She repeated the prayer over and over again.  Odalis eventually stopped when a young girl approached her.  She wore her hair tied in a low ponytail and had straight across bangs.  She looked delicate in facial features and body.

        “What are you doing?” she asked, though her expression or tone showed no real interest.

        “H-Huh?”

        “What are you praying about?  I mean…that is a rosary, right?”

        “O-Oh…um…yes.”

        “Well, what were you praying about?”

        Odalis didn’t speak more to the stranger.

        “What?  Is it a secret or something?”

        Odalis still remained silent.

        “Or is it that you did something wrong?”

        Odalis’s eyes released a more tears.

        “What did you do?”

        Odalis shook her head.

        “I know I’m a stranger, but…ya know.  What was it?”

        Odalis began walking once more, but the stranger followed.  For quite a few blocks, the stranger continued to follow Odalis.   Odalis grew more and more uncomfortable and her guilt grew.  When she saw a police car driving by, she quickly turned to girl.

        “I killed a man—by accident, okay!?” Odalis began to confess, “I-I didn’t mean to!  H-He walked backwards onto the stairs and fell!  But…But I was walking forward so I caused him to walk back and—!”

        “Sounds like you’re in a lot of trouble.” The girl cut her off.  “You know you’re going to be sent to jail, right?”

        “It was an accident!”

        “But you ran, thus you made it look like it was on purpose.”

        “But-But maybe if I explain myself—!”

        “I thinks it’s too late for that…you ran and you killed a guy.”

        “How would you know what’s going to happen?!”

        “If you’re confident that you’ll be forgiven, why are you running away and praying to God for mercy?  I mean, besides the obvious…”

        Odalis buried her face in her hands, “Aren’t you going to turn me into the cops or something.”

        The stranger gave a pause, “No…you look as though you’ve suffered through so much already.  Maybe even before the guy died, too.”

        Odalis looked at the girl with a look of surprise, “Huh?!”

        “Let me help you…I’ll help you if you help me.”

        “W-With what?”

        “I’ll tell you when we’re somewhere private.  Right now, I should help you hide.” The strange grabbed her arm and began to lead, “By the way…what’s your name?”

        “Odalis…”

        “Odalis, well, just remember…you can never turn back to how it was before.  There’s no going back now.  Remember that.”

13: Chapter 13

Chapter 13

            Zizume was lying on her bed like usual, wearing headphones as she listened to the radio.  She had moved a black pawn forward, but no further movement after that.  There hasn’t been any sign of activity since the day Ryan was hospitalized.  Information was gathered from him.  He was a drinker, bad bills, nothing too out of the ordinary for him according to some of his bar-buddies.  However, information that he was one of the Ronin of the Akuryō crew was not given out—at least not officially by police.

            A knocking was heard, “Hey, Zizume?  It’s June.”

            “What’s the password?” Zizume uncovered her left ear.

            “I am not saying the password!  It’s stupid!” June groaned.

            “No password, no entry!”

            “Ugh!  Fine!  Password is: Baby Bottle Pop.”

            The door swung open and the red-head smiled at June, “You may enter!”

            “Geez, really?  A candy?”

            “Something tells me you didn’t get enough sweets growing up.” Zizume plopped onto the bed.

            “I see that you’ve advanced—what for?” June walked closer to stand beside her, passing the table with the chess set.

            “Because my dad already called me telling me you got something for me.” Zizume pointed to the file in June’s hand.  “Is that it?”

            “If he was going to call you anyways, why send me over?”

            “Gimme!  Gimme!” the green eyed woman reached out her hands like an eager child.

            June quickly gave her the file, “It’s not like it’s anything exciting—right?”

            “Did Dad tell you what was in here?” Zizume grinned.

            “No, what is it?”

            “Ookami made a stupid mistake!” she opened the file as began to lay papers out all around her.  “Look, see that photo?”

            “What about it?”

            “Look Closer!  See!  Her face!  From when she was slipping her mask on!”

            “Ah, unlucky camera angle for her then, right?”

            “Oh, better!”  Zizume scanned the papers until she found the one she needed.  “Took a bit, but we were able to identify her!”

            “So who’s this Ookami person?”

            “Odalis Capella.  Not looking clean—says here she was suspected for murder of her ex-husband.  Strange, also said she’s known to visit church every Sunday.”

            “Always expect the unexpected—what my mother used to say.”

            “She dead?”

            “No.”

            “Don’t say ‘used to.’”

            “I say ‘used to’ because she has a new saying now.”

            “What does she say now?”

            “‘Always have a jar of pennies.’”

            “Interesting…why?”

            “Purposes that aren’t just for paying bills.”

            “I see…huh.  That just makes me more curious.”

            “We need to start working—I’m getting paid by the hour.”

            “No you aren’t.”

            “I’m not?”

            “We pay accordingly.”

            “To what?”

            “How we feel.”

            “I probably should have been Union.  Anyways, what are you going to do now?”

            “What’s today?” Zizume asked as she went to change into her uniform.

            June, still believing in modesty, turned her head away, “It’s Sunday.”

            “Perfect.”

            “What are you going to do?”

            “Pay a visit.”  Zizume grabbed a black bag filled with “the usual” and placed the hotel room’s bible inside as well.  “I haven’t visited church in a while.”

            “I wouldn’t think you were a believer.”  June turned her head back around and gave a skeptical look.  “I bet I can name at least three Commandments you broke.”

            “I’m a Christian.  What are you?” Zizume placed her hands on her hips.

            “Well, I was raised Protestant.” June shrugged, “But I’m not sure if I really belong to a religion.”

            “Good.  Don’t belong to a religion—but have a faith.  Everyone needs faith to survive in this world.  Christian, Protestant, Muslim, Jewish, Shinto—heck, you can make something up for all I care.  But I think we all need something to hold onto at least for desperate times.”

            “I didn’t know you were a preacher.” June smirked, but her smile dropped as she looked at Zizume’s skirt.  “But you’re going to church in that?  I mean, bad enough that you’ll be going to a Catholic church in informal clothing, but that skirt is above the knee.”

            “It’s a shkirt!” Zizume twirled a bit.  “Or squart—you know, skirts with shorts sewn underneath?  That’s the only skirt that is allowed to be worn when doing action-y business you know!”

            “Whatever…better hurry or else you’ll be late.  Gow—er, Steve, is waiting outside in the car.”

            “Yeah, yeah!  I’m out of here!” Zizume walked out of the door, closing it behind her.

            She walked down the halls and down the stairs.  Once she got into the passenger seat of the car, Lil’Red and Steve began to make their way to St. Thomas the Apostle Catholic Church on West Pico Boulevard.  Steve parked the car and Zizume got out.  She didn’t have her mask on, knowing that she’d obviously look suspicious entering a church all dressed in black with a black mask that covered half of her face.  Instead, she let her hair out of her usual pony tail before entering.  She kept a bag of all the possible items that she needs close to her.

            Zizume, when entering the church, did the sign of the cross, and kept silent since she had walked in while in the middle of a sermon, as she took a seat towards the center near the walkway.  She scanned the heads of every person in the room, seeing no unusually colored hair.  Knowing, of course, that the person she was looking for was wearing a wig, she needed to be seeing the faces of the church-goers.  Unfortunately, she everyone in front she could only see the back of their heads and she couldn’t constantly be looking behind her.  She was only able to look at those who were on her sides.  Even if she did see a face, could she be sure it was the right person?  The woman she was searching for wore a mask that completely covered her face.  The photo they were able to get wasn’t the best quality at all.  This, however, didn’t discourage her at all.

            When service was over, she quickly walked to the doors, waiting outside with Gower in hopes of finding the people as they were leaving.  Many people were walking out and away, so there could be no error or mistakes in letting Odalis Capella escape—if she even attended.  Eventually, Gower slipped on his masked and began to make a dash.

            “Found her!  She’s moving fast—she must have recognized us!” Steve shouted.

            “Don’t lose sight of her!” Zizume ordered, slipping her mask on and began to follow as quickly as she could.

            “Permission to use guns?” Steve asked, running ahead of Lil’Red.

            “If she fires first, then go right on ahead!” Lil’Red responded.

            They turned a corner and continued down a street.  Odalis quickly reached inside the purse that she was carrying and pulled out a gun, but she didn’t use it until they hit a clearing.

            “Watch it!” Lil’Red quickly threw herself towards the side when the first few bullets were shot.

            “You think after church she’d be getting rid of that thing and come quietly.” Steve pulled out his gun, “She fired.  Do we, also?”

            “Do what you must.” Lil’Red pulled hers out as well.

            The two were firing against Odalis, who didn’t appear to be a good shot—though decent, shot in return.  They fired around corners of buildings and posts and parked cars.  Eventually, the gun shooting was calmed.

            “We don’t want to hurt you!  Cease firing and we’ll do the same!” Lil’Red called out.

            Odalis hesitated, thinking with serious thought before she responded, “Do you swear to God?”

            “I swear to God or else he’ll strike me down!” Lil’Red replied.

            “Do you think she’s going to do it?” Steve whispered.

            “You know she would, so why asked?” she whispered back.

            After a few more moments, Odalis threw her gun out in the opening, appear in the center slowly, removing the curly, brown wig from her head to reveal the purple hair with green highlights and tips.  Her lips curled and her blue eyes revealed her uneasiness.  She placed her hands on her head.

            “I-I didn’t want to do any of this, y-you know!” Odalis stated.

            “Sure,” Lil’Red and Steve placed their weapons away as they approached.

            “I-It’s true!” Odalis fought back tears.

            “You’ll be coming with us.” Steve pulled out his phone, preparing to call the police to pick her up.

            Three or five gun shots were heard.  Lil’Red quickly whipped out her gun by instinct, aiming it at Odalis.  Odalis’s face looked stunned.  She placed her hands on her belly towards her side.  She removed her hands to reveal her red blood bleeding through the fabric of her clothing and had stained her hands.  Her side quickly turned red.

            Steve looked at his superior with a look of surprise and shock.

            Lil’Red quickly stated, “That wasn’t me!  I pulled mine out after hearing the shot!”

            “I’ll call help!” Steve quickly dialed for an ambulance.

            Odalis held her wounds once more, dropping to her knees.  Lil’Red quickly ran to her side, helping her to lie down.  She placed her hands over the wounds and applied pressure.

            “Just relax and hang in there, you’ll be fine!” Lil’Red tried to comfort.

            Odalis’s lips part, “Please…please show mercy on them…they’re just…they’re just children…”

            “I won’t hurt the kids, okay?” Lil’Red responded, “Promise, I’ll make sure they’re fine.  Start worrying about yourself.”

            Odalis inhaled, as if to say more, but her eyes closed and she exhaled what sounded like to be her final breath.  Her body went limp.

            Later that night, Zizume was back at her hotel.  In her pajamas, she laid on her back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling in deep thought.  The chest bored showed that the Black had taken a move backwards and two of the White was moved forward.  She sighed.

            “Baby Bottle Pop.” June’s voice came from the other side of the door.

            “It’s open.” Zizume called out.

            “I thought you’re supposed to have it locked at all times.” June entered with a few papers in her hands.

            “Well…whatever.” Zizume responded dully.  “What do you have?”

            “Bad news…” June sat down at the edge of the bed.  “Would you like to read it for yourself or—?”

            “Just read it to me.”

            “So…I think you already know that, well…Odalis Capella didn’t make it.”

            “How come she didn’t?!  We weren’t too far from the hospital!”

            “I don’t think that was a hospital, I think that was a clinic.”

            “What’s the difference?!”

            “Aren’t hospitals more into—?”

            “Is that all?”

            “Well…no.”

            “What else?”

            “Three hours after Odalis died, so did Ryan.”

            “Ryan, too?!”

            “They thought he was stable—despite what had happened, but…the nurses say that it seemed like he didn’t hold on any longer.”

            “Why?!”

            “I don’t know…he just gave in.”

            “That’s not possible.  If he was looking fine, he should be fine!”

            “I don’t know…these types of things happen quite often.”

            “Are you a doctor?”

            “No.”

            “Then how do you know?”

            “I heard stories.”

            “Sure.”

            Zizume got up from the bed and walked over to the chessboard.  She moved one of the Blacks another space back, but removed two Whites there were in the lead from the chessboard.

            “This isn’t looking good.”

14: Chapter 14

Chapter 14

          Hell Cat sat in the small sofa chair, his head in his hands as he rocked forward and back, crying.  His fingers curled and tightly gripped his blond hair.   Kabuki sat on the floor, her knees high and her feet tucked in, her mask by her side.  She wailed and sobbed greater than Hell Cat.  Hannya quickly made her way to Kabuki and yanked her to her feet by the back of her collar with great force.

          “Shut up!  Both of you!” Hannya suppressed shouting, but the tone of her voice was still sharp.  “If you two don’t stop crying then I’ll just make you stop!”

          “B-But O-Odalis and R-Ryan—!”  Hell Cat raised his head only for a moment before placing it down to his knees.

          “They had what was coming to them!” Hannya stated.

          “I-I didn’t wa-want them to die!” Kabuki sobbed.

          “We all die at one point—this just happened to be their time!”  Hannya responded before she gripped the young girl’s shoulder and shook her, “I said stop crying!”

          Hell Cat jumped to his feet, “Leave her alone!”

          Hannya stopped and slowly turned to face Hell Cat.  Her stare was as sharp and strong as nails and her lips curved downward.  Hell Cat slowly sat back down in his seat.

          “Th-That w-won’t stop c-crying if you do th-that…” Hell Cat added softly and timidly.

          “And what will make you stop crying, huh?!”

          “I-I can’t h-help it!” Hell Cat quickly began to wipe his tearstained face with his sleeves.  “We both can’t h-help it!  It’s no-not our fault!”

          “Well, both of you get yourselves back together!” Hannya barked, “You need to pull yourself together because we’re getting back to work tomorrow!”

          “…We are?” Kabuki asked quietly.

          “Of course!”

          “Bu-But we can’t!” Hell Cat began to protest, “W-We’re just kids!”

          “Doesn’t matter.” Hannya began to march out of the room, “I expect you two to be ready by the usual time.

          Kabuki walked over to Hell Cat and crawled onto his lap, “Don’t worry…we’ll be fine…I know we will.”

15: Chapter 15

Chapter 15

            She wondered the streets aimlessly, not looking both ways when she crossed them or caring if she was alone in the quite city.  Her golden hair was not as lustered as it could be and her curls could have more shape.  Her dainty, grey-blue dress was wrinkled, not that it mattered to her.  Who knows how long the seven year old girl had been alone on her own.

            Emily—that was the little girl’s name.  Just Emily.  She didn’t know her last name—nor if she even had one for that matter.  She doesn’t know how her life began, who her parents were, or where she once lived.  At least, maybe she was too young to understand or maybe she had run away—maybe from home or an orphanage.  Still, she appeared to always be looking for something or someone.  What a strange child.

            One day, she stopped searching.  “I found you!”

            Emily came across a young girl with dark brown hair tied into a low pony tail and bangs across her forehead.  She dressed in her usual brown, V-neck sweater and a pink, knee-length skirt that would be able to move freely with any breeze.  She looked down at the girl with a questioning look.  “What?”

            “I’ve found you!” Emily smiled, as if winning a prize or finding gold.  “I found you!”

            “Who are you, kid?”  The young girl asked with impatience.

            “I’m Emily!” the child answered. “You don’t have to tell me your name though—I already know who you are!”

            “You do?” the young girl raised a questioning brow.

            “Uh-huh!” she nodded with a grin.  “And I know what you’re planning to do!  I will help you if you help me!”

            “What are you talking about?” The young girl sounded more exasperated.

            “Well, maybe you haven’t thought of it yet—not yet…my time is still off…” Emily said.  “But, when it happens, I’ll happily volunteer to help you!  If you help me, of course, I’ll help you!  I mean, I already made a promise to help you, but you know!”

            “What are you talking about?!” she now lost her patience.

            “Can you help me find my mommy and daddy?” she asked.  “I know…I know they’re not gone or anything, but…I want my mommy and daddy!  Can you help me find them?”

            “I’m not babysitting any kid!” she began to walk away, but Emily quickly stood in front of her.

            “But…I’m all alone!”

            “Isn’t there anyone to watch you and take care of you?”

            “Not really.”

            “What about a place to stay or something?  I mean, somebody must know you and is wondering where you are.”

            “I don’t think so.”

            “Well, you’re out of luck—I don’t know how to do kids.”

            “That’s funny!”

            “What’s so funny about it?!”

            “Nothing…just find it funny because you’re a kid yourself, aren’t you?”

            “No, I am not!”

            “Okay!  Okay!” Emily was silent for a moment, “…so, can I stay with you?”

            “Well…I don’t have much of a place to stay either…”

            “Oh…okay!  I’m fine with that!” Emily quickly lined up beside the young girl.  “I’m fine as long as I get to go with you!”

            “It’s not going to be fun.”

            “I don’t mind.  I can make my own fun!”

            “You won’t be getting any toys or candies.”

            “I do like toys…” Emily said with a contemplating look.  “But, I want to stay with you more!”

            “Why me?  How do you even know me?”

            “That’s a secret!” she giggled.  Emily was quite for a few seconds.  “Do you have anyone staying with you already?”

            The young girl sighed and answered honestly, “No.  I’m on my own.”

            “Does that mean you got no one to watch over you, too?”

            “…I guess….yeah.”

            “You’re too young to be alone.”

            “Look who’s talking.”

            “Well, I can watch over you!” Emily smiled.  “I’ll be your guardian angel!  So you won’t be alone anymore!  And I’ll grant any wish you want, you’ll name it!  Watch, I’ll take care of you!”

            “Yeah, whatever.” The young girl began walking.  “Come on, let’s go.”

            “…Hey, will you sing me any lullabies?”

            “What am I, your mom?!  No!”

            

16: Chapter 16

Chapter 16

            “So…do you think they’ve given up the life of crime yet?” Junko asked.

            “It’s only been a few days…” Zizume answered.  Her back was arched as she sat at the table with the chest board.  She had a finger on a specific white piece as she was staring at one of her own.  Her lips were planning on curling, but Zizume prevented them.  She had headphones on, connected to the radio, with only one ear uncovered.  Her hair was pulled up in a ponytail and she wore a long, white robe.

            Junko squinted her eyes and before leaning closer, “Have you been sleeping?”

            “I needed to make sure they weren’t going to…” Zizume’s voice trailed off after realizing that her explanation wasn’t going to make sense.  She technically had no excuse.  “I guess you can say that I’m a little paranoid…or something.  Nerves.  Couldn’t sleep.”

            “Well, you look a wreck.”

            “Thanks.” Zizume didn’t remove her eyes from the checked board.  “And it’s “look like a wreck.”

            “Stop correcting me!” Junko huffed, “You’re not a grammar teacher!

            “Well, you surely need one.”

            “Like you speak perfectly English!”

            “As a matter of fact, I do.” Zizume retorted. “You just spoke an incomplete sentence!”

            “…You say incomplete sentences, too!”

            “Unless you have evidence, I do not say incomplete sentences.”

            “You’re so—!”

            “Watch it, I’m your boss.”

            “No, you’re not.  Your dad is, but you’re not.”

            “…Well, I will be your boss one day.” Zizume stated. “When I take over The Company, I’ll be your boss.”

            “What if I leave before then?” Junko asked.

            “What did I say before?  You can’t leave unless I say so!” Zizume finally turned to Junko and smirked.  “And I think I’ll make sure you stay with us as long as you can last.  I like you, you’re funny.  I want you stay even though you hate the job.”

            “Gee, thanks.”

            “You know, ‘Sable,’ maybe someday I’ll—shh!” Zizume covered both ears and listened in silence.  Once she finished listening to what she was hearing, she threw off the headphones, stood up, threw off the rob she was wearing to reveal that she was already in her uniform, ran to get her mask and shoes and placed them on.

            “Were you wearing that the entire time?!” Junko asked in disbelief.  “Specifically to just do what you did?!”

           “Fix your grammar and then I’ll answer.” Zizume opened the door and ran out to leave Junko alone the room, “See ya!”

            “Steve” was already in the car when Zizume walked out—he, too, was waiting for when she would need a ride to wherever she needed to be.  He drove past the speed limit—carefully, the best he could—without getting caught—to where he needed to be.  Steve drove down Wilshire Blvd. and stopped right in front of a “CC Diamonds,” the location that Zizume had told him to go.  Now she understood why Zizume seemed more…in thought, why she had a tenser look in her eyes when they were driving, how she was pressing her fingers to her lip.  The crime wasn’t taking place at a convenient store or a gas station or at an Albertsons, but an actual jewelry store.  The Akuryō had finally stepped it up.

            When Lil’ Red ran into the CC Diamonds, without a plan or a second though, the situation only got worse for her.  Her gun pulled out, she examined the situation the best she could.  Civilians were on the floor with their hands over their head and the security guards weren’t armed as the guns lay on the floor in front of them.  Hanyaa had brought the two kids, Hell Cat and Kabuki, into the store with her, fully armed with their swords.  The boy, Hell Cat, had his Hamidashi sword out, but he held it strangely, the way he stood was strange for carrying and wielding a sword.  He looked as though he was ready to swing at anything, looking as if he was getting ready to hit a ball that would be flying towards him.  His gun was tucked away.  Kabuki, the little girl, carried both a tanto sword and gun, having them both out.  The sword looked a little too heavy for her as her arm would wobble once in a while.  Hanyaa was stuffing a bag with jewelry.

            The moment Lil’ Red stepped into the jewelry store with her gun out, without a plan, was the moment she found herself stuck.  For when she ran in, Kabuki pointed the gun at her, ready to fire at any moment.  She didn’t speak a word, she just moved as if her body had complete control—she didn’t even have to think or be told to, she just pointed the gun to ‘Lil Red.

            “Oh, hello, old friend.” Hanyaa greeted from behind a counter.  “Nice seeing you again.”

            “I’ll forgive your entire thievery,” ‘Lil Red stated, “but I won’t forgive that you brought kids into this.”

            “Oh, you know what they say,” Hanyaa hopped over the counter, “start young.”

            ‘Lil Red glared through her mask, “I’ll be taking you done!”

            “Try me!”  Hanyaa gestured Kabuki to watch over the civilians instead, and she obeyed.

            The moment Kabuki lowered her gun at Lil’ Red, Lil’ Red quickly tried to make a dash for Hanyaa, but she hadn’t noticed Hell Cat had moved swiftly and silently to her side and took a swing—as if batting—at her.  When a moment of pause between swings came, she quickly dodged all the swings he gave and she eventually kicked his knees hard enough for him to fall over.  He sat there in pain for a few moments, but it gave Lil’Red enough time to approach closer at Hanyaa and fire a few shots at her.  Hanyaa quickly moved out the way, avoiding to get hit.

            Bullets flew, once in a while; Hanyaa’s blade would get close to strike Lil’ Red, but then would back away once more.  Hell Cat and Kabuki stood frozen, confused and scared as they watched the two girls fight, looking like they’re playing more of a game of tug-o-war or something similar, causing the two kids to jump whenever the sound of bullets would go off.  During the distraction, an old security man, nearby Lil’ Red, just behind her, lifted his gun off from the ground and began to take aim at Hanyaa.

            Lil’ Red took notice of the man and quickly began to charge at him to prevent him from firing.  “No, wait!  Stay out of this!” 

            It was too late.  The man fired two shots when Lil’ Red tried to push his arm up and away for the first shot, when the pulled his arm back down and slipped a slipped a second shot, Lil’Red shoved his arm, trying to make him stop.  The first bullet shot somewhere towards a corner near the ceiling, the second bullet whizzed towards Hanyaa.  Fortunately for Hanyaa, she was able to move out of the way in time to get out of aim…but Kabuki didn’t.

            Emily removed her mask, dropping it to the floor, so she could get a better look at the red spilling out from her abdomen.   The eight year old went limp in the legs and fell to the ground, opening her mouth but no sound came out.  Everyone was silent except for Hell Cat who began to scream and cry.  Zizume stood there, feeling as though she lost reality.

            Hanyaa sheathed her sword and calmly went to kneel at Emily’s side and then lifted the child into her arms.  Emily reached out her small hands to Hanyaa’s mask, lifting it up off her face—only enough so she could be able to see her face.  Hanyaa stared down at the girl, holding her small frame carefully as though trying to keep a broken doll in one piece.  If anyone could catch a glimpse of Hanyaa’s face, they would only see a vacant look.

            Emily began to twirl some of Hanyaa’s blue hair around her fingers, “Is…Is there anything you want to wish for…?”

            Hanyaa only stared, her lips not parting.

            “…Alright then, I’ll try to grant it…!” Emily smiled as her eyes began to water, “But…before I go…will you sing me a lullaby?  Please?”

            The room remained silent for a moment longer, than a voice began to sing in the tune of “Hush Little Baby” but with altered words.

            “…Hush little baby don’t you cry, everything is going to be alright…

                    but if it doesn’t look that way, I will use pretty lights to guide your way…

                        and I’ll make sure it stays that way…

                            So hush little baby don’t you cry, everything is going to be alright…”

        Emily was cold and silent.

        Hanyaa carefully laid the corpse down, gently brushing some of her hair back and placing her Kabuki mask over the wound.  The sound of sirens made Hell Cat, Hanyaa, and Lil’Red snap back into reality.  Lil’ Red no longer had a clear mind, she felt her face burn and all she could see was anger.  She pulled out her second gun and began to make a choice she may regret.

        “You and Hell Cat get out!” Lil’ Red declared.  “This is a fight between you and me and I’m not letting someone get in the way again!  Get out of here!”

        The last two Akuryō hesitated, but with the sirens growing closer, they made a dash out the back as fast as they could, leaving Lil’ Red behind to take on the heat of the cops that had just arrived in the front.  Without any thought, Lil’ Red immediately walked out the front with both guns in the air, her face as stiff as it could be.

        “Drop your weapons!” one of the cops yelled, aiming one of their guns at her.

        She aimed her two trusty friends at the police, scanning them.  Zizume was very tempted to fire one of the bullets, just up in the air, ignoring the possible risk of scaring one of the cops to open fire.  Well…she didn’t ignore it…she full acknowledged it.  She really was going to fire her guns until she noticed that they had already got hold of Gower.  That was when she realized that she shouldn’t make situations any worse than they already were, so she dropped her guns carelessly.  The police quickly approached and began to cuff Zizume, placing Lil’ Red in the back of one of their cars.

        She didn’t even care. 

17: Chapter 17

Chapter 17

            At the police station at North Los Angeles Street, Lil’ Red and Steve were being held in separate rooms.  Upon first arrival, police tried to get the Company Member’s finger prints taken, but the two resisted to a point where they began to bite their fingers until blood would flow, so the process was given up—trying to remove their mask also proved to be a failure, as they, once again, put up a fight.  It wasn’t too long until Mr. Tanner entered the room where a table stood and two chairs sat on either side.  Lil’Red sat at one of them; Mr. Tanner sat in the other.

            “Zizu—”

            “Lil’ Red” Zizume quickly interrupted.  Her back was straight as it could be could be and her hands were folded perfectly at the table.  Her head was leveled, raised high as though she was holding onto what seemed to be a sense of honor and dignity…but her eyes were looking away, avoiding his eyes in shame.

            “I don’t think you’ve ever been caught before…” Mr. Tanner, stroking his mustache, noted.  “This must be hard for you—being The Company Leader’s daughter and all.”

            She sat silently.

            “This will be your first criminal record, as you were never caught before…” Mr. Tanner then glanced down at her fingers, “We can identify you first.”

            Lil’Red glanced at her own fingers, all wrapped in bandages—that she did herself—with red, blotchy stains that bled through.  She began to twiddle her thumbs, but when her appendage proved to be too sore, she stopped.  She didn’t speak a word.

            “I heard what happened at the jewelry store…” Mr. Tanner cleared his throat before saying, “Must have been hard—I…I can see why you sorta lost it…not like you’ve done this before, right?”

            Zizume’s arms tried to balance themselves on her elbows, her hands still clasped together as she pressed her head against them.  Her eyes were tightly shut and the way she breathed sounded as though she was crying despite the lack of tears.

            “Hey, Chief,” the rooky entered the room.

            “Kyle, what is it?” Mr. Tanner turned his head to look over his shoulder.  “I’m in the middle of something.

            “There’s a visitor.” The rooky, Kyle, responded.

            “A visitor?  What do you mean?”

            “He’s, um…” Kyle glanced at Lil’Red before returning to look at Mr. Tanner, “It’s Company Leader: Big Red, sir.  He has two other people with him…he wants to see his daughter—and you….do I let him in?”

            Zizume tensed up a little at the “name” of her father, staring down at her hands and preparing herself for what was to come.  Mr. Tanner thought for a moment before nodded his head, giving the permission to let Big Red in.  Kyle walked out and when he returned, there were three people with him all dressed in black and wore masks.  It was Big Red with his, as The Company calls them, his Left Hand and his Right Hand men.  The look on Big Red’s face showed anger and his steps were fast paced as he entered the room.

            “Did all that training go to waste?!” Big Red shouted.

            Zizume coward, avoiding his eyes like any child would if their parents were furious with them.  This was one of the occasions that she was reminded of the hardships of being the daughter of Company Leader.  If she was asked which was more difficult, the harsh trainings or Company Leader’s scolding and punishments, she would answer with the latter, but then she would quickly explain that when the mask was off, he was a much more gentle and kinder—it was always the mask, she would say, that would change him.

            “Big Red, settle down—” Mr. Tanner was trying to quell the angered Leader.

            “Lil’Red, answer me!” Big Red barked over Mr. Tanner’s voice.

            Lil’Red snapped into her proper sitting position with her back straight and stared right back into his eyes and placed on her best well-composed face.  “No, sir!”

            “Then why are you here?!” Big Red slammed the table with his fist.

            The action surprised everyone that just about everyone jumped in their spot—fortunately the Company Members stood behind Big Red so he didn’t see that they did jump a little in surprise, but it was unfortunately for Zizume since she sat in front of him, and she did, too, jump a little in her seat out of surprise.

            “See?!  Wasted!  You just showed everyone here that you were startled—you don’t show anyone anything but a good composure!”  He looked down at her hands.  “You wouldn’t have to follow that protocol if you weren’t caught!  Did you leave any fingerprints or DNA?!  Did you endanger not only your fellow Members, but your family, too?!”

            “No, sir!” Lil’Red quickly answered.

            “What about Steve?!”

            “I’m sure he didn’t leave anything behind!”

            “How can you be so sure?!”  Big Red slammed his first down two more times, and only this time the Company Members didn’t get startled.  “How can you be so sure, huh?!  What if you ruined us, huh?!”

            “Big Red!  I need you to settle down!” Mr. Tanner stood up from his seat.  “We don’t have anything from Lil’Red or Steve!  If we did, I’ll get rid of it, okay?!”

            “Mr. Tanner, you can’t be serious?!” Kyle turned to his superior in shock.

            “I’ve known The Company a long time now, Kyle…believe me when I say I know that lives are at stake…”

            There was an unsettling silence among the Company members, as if the silence and looks to one another was their way of saying what he said was true.  Kyle was stunned.

            “The Company isn’t that brutal, is it?!”  Kyle looked over at Lil’Red, then down at her fingers and was quite.

            “Let’s go, Lil’Red.” Big Red said, sounding calmer now than earlier, “Sable’s in the car waiting for us.”

            “Wait, you can’t go!” Mr. Tanner ordered.  “We need to discuss the incident!”

            Big Red pulled out a piece of paper from inside of his coat and unfolded it—a document of the signed agreement between him and Mr. Tanner.  “You said that The Company has only five chances to get away with being caught.  Steve and Lil’Red cost two of the chances; we still have three more left.  I believe I have the right to take them with me no questions asked and with no needs of gathering or keep evidence or records.”

            “Did you really sign it?” Kyle asked.

            “But you also said that you’d do your job by keeping the criminals alive—so far they’re dying one by one instead of being caught.” Mr. Tanner pointed out.  “That also breaks the contract—”

            “It was stated that we will try.” Big Red countered, “But as we said once: we make no promises of whether or not they will all live or die.”

            “Not to mention that I was not the one who killed anyone of them, but by their own members or by what we call ‘external causes’ such as the guard.” Lil’Red added.

            “By this, we have all rights to be left alone for another three chances.” Big Red folded up the paper and placed it in his coat.

            Mr. Tanner began to grumble and with great hesitance he let out the words, “Fine, have it your way.”

            “Mr. Tanner!”

            Lil’Red quickly stood from her seat and looked to the rooky with a smile, “You got so much to learn.  You’re a nice guy though, and maybe someday we’ll get along in our own messed up way like Mr. Tanner and Big Red does.”

            “Lil’Red, hush.” Big Red narrowed is eyes at Lil’Red, though his voice had a more fatherly tone.

            “Yes, sir.” Lil’Red responded with a sigh.

            “She’ll get the job done,” was the only thing Big Red said before he and all other Company Members walked out of the Station.

            The Right and Left Hand men took the driver and passenger seat while Steve, Sable, Big Red and Lil’Red sat in the back in seats designed to face one another.  Steve and Sable sat with each other and Big Red and Lil’Red sat with each other on the other side.  They made sure that the strongly tinted windows were rolled up all the way and made sure that nobody could get a look inside.  Once everyone was seated and ready, the driver began to drive.

            Big Red, much to Sable and Steve’s surprise, removed his mask in front of them and placed an arm around Lil’Red, who in turn removed her mask.  Steve didn’t know how to react, unsure whether or not it was fine, so he quickly began to look away and shield his eyes from their identity while Sable just stared.

            Zizume’s poised composure completely broke down and she began to heavily cry, “Oh, Dad, I’m sorry!”

            Derek’s stiffness and sternness had melted away, “Shhh, don’t cry!  It’s alright!”  He wrapped both his arms around her and began to rock her the best he could in their seats. “Baby girl, don’t cry!”

            “But I allowed the little girl to die!  A-And I let them ge-get away and I-I got caught!” Zizume sobbed.  “I could-could have gotten us killed and-and—”

            “No, no, you didn’t.” Derek grabbed one of her hands and kissed her bandaged fingers, “No, you were a good girl, you did your best and you did what you were told.  Don’t worry about it—I’m just glad that you are alright.”

            “Oh, Daddy!” Zizume continued to sob as Derek continued to give her comfort.

            

18: Chapter 18

Chapter 18

        Haydn Eros was only thirteen years old when his father was diagnosed with cancer and was put into the hospital.  He could no longer help him with practice or attend his baseball game.  No more hearing him return home from work or seeing him on Chanukah.  The only time that he ever got to see his father was on visitations...and they made him more and more depressed each time.  Haydn’s mother would visit him, too, as well...but over time, she stopped visiting.  It wasn't after long, when things were looking grim for his father, when times were getting really difficult...Haydn found out she was dating another man.  He would hear her on the phone with the strange man or notice that she wouldn't return home until really late.  Haydn never told his father about it—he kept it a secret.

        One day, however...his dad's last day...when he question his wife's absence...

        "Where's your mother?"

        "Oh, you know where she always is at this time."  Haydn would reply,  "Working."

        "....Is it serious?"

        "What's serious?"

        "Her and the other man of course..."

        His heart leaped.  "What other man?"

        "Haydn... don't lie to me."  He looked into to his son’s eyes with sorrow, placing a hand over his, and said, "She hasn't worn her wedding ring in several months..."

        That evening, Haydn and his mother received a call....

        Haydn laid on his bed, alone in the dark, crying.  His father died...but his mother invited that man over—on the very same night.  How could she do that?  Haydn thought he couldn’t feel anymore hate towards his mother...until he heard that man propose and how she said yes.  That's when he lost it.  He didn’t know what he was doing, his body moved on its own. He grabbed his metal bat and walked into the living room, where the happy couple were sitting on the couch, and began to hit anything in sight—family photos, decorations, their T.V…and eventually the man who would become his step-father.

He was out of it, blinded by rage, anger, and sorrowful depression--tears streamed down his face from his blue eyes.  He couldn't hear anyone's voice and his head was hot.  He felt as though things were falling apart.  The sounds of shattered glass just repeated in his head over and over and over and over again.  He waited for his dad to walk through the door and asked him what was wrong—but of course, he didn't.  Even if he did walk in and asked, it wasn't like he could answer.  Haydn didn't know what he was doing himself--his mind blank, his body moved without command.  It wasn't until he saw a splatter of blood he had realized what he'd done.  The man laid on the ground, unconscious—not dead as Haydn had thought—and his mother quickly rushed to her fiancé’s side.

        "What’s wrong with you?!" he heard his mother utter.  The horrified look on her face made Haydn sick with shame and fear.

        That was when he ran away from home.

            Haydn lived on the street for a year—fourteen years old now, just turned fourteen, only a few days into that year.  The only clothes Haydn had worn on the day he ran away...and the baseball cap his father gave him.  Out of everything he had on him, he made sure that cap stayed in the best quality even though the rest of him looked like crap.  Food wasn't too bad since he would go and eat at those soup kitchens he always heard about.  The first time, they were really hard to find since he never really thought where the homeless ate or what they did—he never really gave much thought into them.  Ironic.  But, of course he couldn’t stay in the same place too longer—being a kid, they obviously wanted to do what’s best for him…at least, that was what he thought...they never really said anything.  As a place to sleep, he would try to find a building with a roof that stretched out enough during rainy days or on hot days.  For the cold, well, he’d try to find whatever he could to cover himself in to stay warm.

        Few days into the fourteenth year of his life, a strange woman appeared—well, a girl.  Her hair was tied in a low pony-tail and her bangs in need of a trim.  She surely wasn't over twenty.  He was sitting on the curb when she found him, and she sat beside him without any invitation.

        "Hey." she greeted.  Haydn didn't give any response.  There was a moment of silence before she continued.  "You've obviously been living on the streets for long enough... smell bad."

        Haydn paused and sniffed his shirt.  Being a "hobo" for an entire year, thinking about how he smelt completely slipped his mind.

        "You're pretty young...how old are ya, kid?" she asked with a seemingly apathetic tone, but to Haydn, there was a touch of softness beneath those words.  Maybe because it was some sign that someone cared...nobody had asked anything about him ever since he ran away.  With all the talk about helping the homeless, a lot of people didn't do anything when they saw him out on the street begging.

        "...Fourteen." he answered after a minute exactly.

        "That's young...too young to be alone I say." She responded.  "Then again, I was on my own at that age, too."

        He turned to her, not saying a word, but just looked at her.

        "Hey, if you come with me and work for me, I'll give you anything you want."  She began.  "Money, a place to stay, maybe you want a car or something—whatever you boys like."

        "Work for you...?" Haydn gave a skeptical look.

        "I know you're different." she stated. "You’re different, I’m different... so why not?"

        Haydn thought for a moment, he thought really hard until he understood what she meant and his eyes quickly grew wide.  Does she know about what happened on the day he ran away?!

        "I’ve got my problems, too."  She grinned—but there was something off the moment she grinned.  He quickly stood to get away, but she yanked him back down with force.  "Where do you think you're going?  You have nowhere to go!  I bet your parents don't even care—if they did, you wouldn't be here and there be missing posters of you everywhere!  If you're going say 'I don't have parents,' then family member or friends of the family—nobody cares or else someone would be looking for you!"

        Haydn thought about it.  She's right—even his own mother isn't looking for him.  Sure, she probably wouldn't, even after what he did...but still, how about his aunts?  His uncles?  His coach and teammates?  School friends?  Isn't anyone looking for him?  Even if he was a criminal, shouldn't there be "wanted" signs around?  Some sign that they care—whether it's good or bad?  She's right...nobody cared....nobody was looking for him.  His father was the only who cared about him and he'd probably be looking for him, too—why was he even thinking about that?!  His father's gone.  Dead.  Dead.  Dead.  Dead.  He's alone.  Haydn was truly alone.  He pushed it to the back of his mind for a year, but now that she brought it up....tears began to flow.

        A new side of the girl came out.  Something in her changed when he started to cry.  The girl's muscles and lip stiffened, as if something cold as ice completely touched and coated her skin.  Her hands cringed—he thought he even saw her quiver a little.

        "Stop.  Crying." Her voice was hard as stone.  "Stop it.  Now."

        He didn't know what her deal was, but he didn't hesitate to obey.  Although tears continued to roll, and he continued to dry his face, he stopped making the noise of a crier.  When his tears slowed down enough, she appeared to return to her normal state.

        "So, will you work for me?" she asked once more.  "Again, I'll provide anything you want."

        "....Well, it's like you said...." the blond haired boy stated as his blue eyes into her eyes.  "I have nowhere else to go..."

        "Good." She stood.  "What's your name?"                                                        

        "Haydn....." he didn't see why he should make a new name.  "And you?"

19: Chapter 19

Chapter 19

            Zizume was out walking alone as she was advised to take a day off from her mission, though she brought her purse that held her uniform inside.  From the chessboard, two pieces were removed.  She was disappointed in herself; she wasn’t usually so emotional when in uniform.  Even so, she decided to take the advice and try to put her nerves at ease.  She was walking inside a park, MacArthur Park, along the walkways hoping the nice area could keep relax her.

            It was nice, though, being outside of uniform for a while—to be just Zizume and not “Lil’Red.”  She was watching families, friends, kids—everyone that was in the park.  She couldn’t help but envy them a little, being able to be fully honest about their lives with one another and not to deal with dangerous responsibilities.  However, a moment afterwards she acknowledged that wasn’t true, knowing that not everyone were honest people, so open and free—then she began to feel a little prideful as she knew nobody could be able to do what she does…well, maybe when she has a kid of her own, maybe.

            She stared over at a group of boys playing baseball in the park, which she thought it would have been better if they had just gone to a baseball field, that way it’s safer since it wouldn’t have a higher chance of having their baseball hit anyone nearby.  Lil’Red couldn’t help but think about how she must marry and have a kid before she could become leader—after all, it insures that there would always be an heir in The Company if something, God forbid, happens to The Leader.  She also couldn’t help but wonder how would she train the child—like her father did or would she find her own way?  From the stories she heard from her father, the way her grandparents trained him was far harsher—he would laugh and say that child services would have taken him away if they ever knew, though she never understood why he would chuckle at that.  She thanked that she wasn’t her grandparents’ eldest after discovering how harsh their training was.  No, she wouldn’t be harsh like them, that’s for sure.  She would most likely follow the ways how her father trained her—maybe a little different.

            Yeah, how nice it was to take a walk and not think about The Company.

            Zizume’s thoughts were interrupted when a baseball rolled up against her heel.  She picked up the ball and smiled over at the freckled face boy that came running over.

            “Sorry, Miss.” The boy apologized.

            “Well, nobody got hurt.” Zizume handed the ball back over “Just make sure you guys don’t hit it too far where it could hit someone, ‘kay?”

            “Got it.” The kid snatched the ball out of her hand before returning to his previous position on the “field.”

            Zizume only shook her head and continued her leisurely walk.  That was, until she noticed something peculiar in the corner of her eye.  She continued the walk, though slower than how it was before and she continued to watch the boys in their game—specifically: the batter.  His blond hair shined and his blue eyes focused.  The red cap he wore helped kept the sun away from his eyes.  He held his bat—chocked up on it a little bit more—and raised his back elbow a little higher.  He knees were bent, though not too much, just right, and his feet firmly planted.  The ball was pitched and whizzed towards the batter.  With a little step of his front foot and a little twist from the back foot, he swung and hit the ball—a pretty good hit, too.  It would have been a better hit, if he wasn’t worried about causing trouble to other park-goers, at least that what was thought.  He was a pretty good runner, too, but that wasn’t what Zizume was focused on.

            The way he stood to be ready, the way he swung, how he moved his fingers when chocking up on the bat, his knees and feet—everything that he did to hit the ball was oh so familiar.  He stopped at third base—good hit indeed.  While the next batter began to make his way up, Zizume casually moved closer to where third base was.  She couldn’t help but wonder—so much for a break from work….but, no, it couldn’t be.  She must be paranoid.  But Zizume couldn’t help but suspect…however the boy didn’t seem to notice her.  There was only one thing Zizume thought of that could help put her suspicions to an end.

            She drew closer and closer, untying her hair from the pony-tail she usually wore it in, having it carefully lay in a manner that made it difficult for her face to be seen from side views.  She slipped her hand into her purse, her fingers lying on her mask—she didn’t bring it out yet…not just yet.  She was close, almost next to the boy, when she stopped her walk.  Still, he didn’t notice…but he was going to.  Lil’Red was going to settle all suspicions at that moment.

            “…Hey, boy, you…” Lil’Red caught his attention in a voice that only he could hear.  He turned his head and looked up at the red-head.  “Can I ask you something?”

            “Hey, lady!  We’re playing a game here!” a boy with brown hair, the one that guarded the third base, spoke up.

            “H-Hey, Nate, we can do time-outs.” The blond boy stated.

            “Oh, Haydn, come on!”

            “Hey, what’s going on out there?”

            “Haydn wants to call a time-out because this lady wants to talk to him!”

            “Does he know her?”

            “No, I don’t think so!” Haydn, the blond with the red cap, answered.

            “Are you allowed to talk to strangers?” another boy called out, sounding like the responsible one.

            “He has a point…” Lil’Red gave a shy smile.

            “Well…” Haydn shrugged and returned to talking to his friends, “Come on, guys, just one break!”

            “Fine!  Better make it quick!  My mom is going to pick me up soon and I want to finish this game!  You guys took forever the last time!” another boy said.

            “Alright!  Alright!” Haydn returned his attention to Lil’Red.  “Okay, what is it?”

            Lil’Red looked over at the boys before she began to take a few steps away, intending Haydn to do the same. He hesitated for a moment, only glancing at his friend for a second, before he followed.  They stood a moment, waiting for one of them to speak.

            “Well, what is it?” Haydn asked again.

            “Haydn, was it?”  Lil’Red stared down at Haydn.  A fear resided in her—something that usually never happens.  For once, she was hoping her suspicion was wrong.

            “Yeah?”

            “I…I just wanted to ask a question…”

            “What?”

            “…Well…You…um…” Lil’Red hesitated.  “Are you…are you Hell Cat?”

            Haydn’s face went pale as his blue eyes widened.  He shook his head and took a light step back.  His lips curled.

            “Oh…okay…” Lil’Red pulled out the black mask from her bag and placed it on her face—which made Hell Cat’s heart skip a beat.  “I see now.  Before anyone of us does anything rash, I just want you to know that I won’t—”

            Haydn darted, his red jacket flying and his cap holding on to his head.  Lil’Red, with instinct began to chase after him, leaving his friends in panic and worry.  No, she wasn’t not going to let another slip from her hands—especially another kid.

            Haydn weaved through people and cars driving in the street.  Lil’Red did her best trying to keep up, but knew she was moving too slow.  She took off her heels, revealing her feet and continued to chase after him, tucking her shoes into her purse.  Cars honked and people either stared in frozen panic or pretended to pay no notice.

            Haydn, in fear, ran—he didn’t know where he was going, he just wished that the woman would be off his trail, he wished that Hanyaa would appear to save him.  He thought about asking one of the civilians for help, but he knew it was best not to get the involved.

            “Stop!  Wait!” Lil’Red called out, “I’m not going to hurt you!”

            Haydn looked over his shoulder to make sure the distance was kept.  Something that was not best to do in the middle of the street.

            “Haydn!  Get out!” Lil’Red shouted.

            Haydn looked and, as stupid as it was, stopped in his tracks when he saw an oncoming car.  His heart skipped a beat and for a moment he stopped breathing.  Lil’Red thought she caused another kid, even though he was a part of the Akuryō, to fall into the hands of death.

            Fortunately for both parties, the car swerved and missed Haydn, colliding into another car.  That was when Lil’Red caught Haydn, wrapping both arms around him and secured him and insured that he would not leave her grasp.

            “Let me go!  Let me go!” Haydn struggled.

            “What’s going on here?!” A pedestrian asked as the two drivers stepped out of their car.

            “She was chasing that kid!” a witness exclaimed.

            Lil’Red, still holding onto the boy, began searching her purse in hopes that she had brought the item she needed.  By luck, it was there.  She pulled out the badge that Mr. Tanner had given her for times like this, and she held it up high.

            “I’m an agent of the police!” Lil’Red lied to the public.  “Stay out of this and let me do my job!”

            “What about my car?!” one of the drivers asked.

            “Well that’s not my problem,” Lil’Red placed the badge back into her purse.  “Hopefully you both have insurance or else this would really suck.”

            “Let me go!” Haydn continue to shout as tears welled up in his eyes, “I said let me go!”

            “No chance, kid.”  Zizume pulled out her special cell phone and began making a call. “Company Member—uh…I guess Civilian? Lil’Red here.  Yeah, hey, Steve, I’m on 7th Street near MacArthor Park.  You won’t believe who I caught.”

 

            

20: Chapter 20

Chapter 20

He wasn’t taken to the police—oh no, they didn’t hand the boy over to Mr. Tanner, they informed him but they didn’t hand him over.  That really pissed him off.  They took him to Location 1 of the many Company hide outs in L.A.  The detained him in a room with nothing but a table and two chairs.  His eyes were red and swollen from crying, despite how hard he tried not to.  Finally, three Members entered the room: Big Red, Lil’Red who was carrying a file folder, and Sable.

            “Hey there, kid.” Big Red entered.  “Probably scared out of your mind.”

            “Well, you did sorta chase him around and forced him into a strange car, blind folded him, took him here into a place where he has no clue where it is and, ya know, sorta enemies here.” Sable commented.

            “Thanks.” Haydn murmured.

            Lil’Red stood in the room and looked to her dad and waited for him to take the other seat, however he didn’t.  Instead, he said, “Lil’Red, this is your mission, I just wanted to walk you here.

            Lil’Red nodded and took a seat at the opposite end.  Once seated, Big Red gestured for Sable to follow and they left the room.  There was silence.  They stared at each other in an awkward bitterness.

            “…Why are you wearing your mask?  I already know what you look like.” Haydn placed his fingers onto his cheek, “Besides, it’s not fair—I don’t have mine…”

            “Well…I have rules to follow.  Wearing a mask during the job is important for all Members.”  Lil’Red commented.

            Haydn just stared down at the floor, his head turned a little.  No response was given.  Lil’Red’s fingers made their way up to her mask and removed it, placing it on the edge of the desk.  Haydn’s eyes slowly made their way back up to looking into the woman’s eyes.  Zizume was silent for another moment or two.

            “…So…Haydn…” Zizume asked, “How did you meet that girl, Hanyaa?  Why did you join her?”

            No response.

Zizume opened the file and began to say the things that she had read.  “It says here that you ran away from home when you were thirteen…right?  Is that why you joined her—she took you in?  What about your mother, don’t you miss her?”

“It’s not like she misses me…” Haydn finally responded.

“I’m sure she does.  You’re her only child after all.”

“Then how come there’s no signs that I’ve been missing for over a year or that she’s looking for me?”

Zizume was quite before she continued on.  “Why are you helping her—Hanyaa?  Are you doing this against your will?”

“It’s not like she’s been asking me to kill anyone…” Haydn began talking easier, though slowly.

“Haydn, you’re still committing crimes.” Zizume said.  “Why?  You’re just a kid.  What about Ryan and Odalis and Emily—do you think that it’s really fair?  Taking advantage of those who are in need?”

“What about you guys?”

Zizume was caught off guard.  “Huh?”

Haydn shifted in his seat before he continued.  “I’ve heard about The Company on the news sometimes—not sure what you guys are, a gang or something, but…I’ve heard some things.  You guys do the same—take people in who are desperate, make them work for you ‘or else.’  You guys sound pretty scary…you commit crimes, too.  What’s the difference between what Hanyaa does and what you do?”

Zizume didn’t know what to say.  She thought for a moment and replied, “We don’t use kids.”

“So?  How does that make any difference?” Haydn asked.  “Sure, everyone thinks of the kids saying that we’re the future, but we’re not the only ones who suffer ya know.  We’re exactly what we are—kids…we don’t know how to take care of ourselves.  When you sacrifice our guardians, you just leave behind a bunch of scared little kids.”

Zizume was silent as she stared down at her hands.  She couldn’t help but think about Gower and his daughter—were they causing his daughter to suffer?  Maybe…maybe they weren’t so different…and that thought made her feel uneasy in the stomach.  Strange, even though she grew up knowing that The Company was never going to be a good guy or a bad guy.  She turned her head up and smiled a little at him.  “You’re wiser than your age.”

“That’s what happened to all of us—the Akuryō…” the boy turned his head down to the table.  “Hanyaa…Emily…me.”

It was Zizume’s turn to speak, and spoke a little shamefully this time, “The police hired The Company to put a stop to the Akuryō, to turn you guys in…I was put in charge of this mission, alone with two of my Co-Workers.  That’s why I have to keep you here in questioning…since we, ourselves, don’t trust the cops very well ourselves…we like doing things our own way.”

“I know.” Haydn responded.  “Where else did you get that badge?  Hanyaa did say that you were no cop.”

“Yes…she’s pretty keen on things.” Zizume nodded.  “I already failed with Ryan and Odalis…I wasn’t able to keep that little girl safe—”

“You don’t want to add me to a list of your failures, right?” Haydn asked, though he sounded a little bit bitter.

Zizume thought for a moment.  “It’s not…failures as a Company Member, it’s that—”

“Don’t lie to me—or yourself.” Haydn crossed his arms.  “Maybe you felt bad with Emily, but I don’t think you really felt bad for Odalis or Ryan.  They were my friends, too, but you thought of it as something that hindered your job.”

Zizume tried to turn a strange feeling inside her off.  “Look, if something happened to me, would you feel bad?  Maybe even before we had this talk?”

Haydn thought for a moment, “Maybe a little…”

“But you wouldn’t mourn for me, would you?”

            Haydn only responded with a slight twist of his hat.

            “My point exactly.  You mourned because they were your friends…but I didn’t know anything about them as a person.” Zizume closed the file. “You have to cooperate with me in getting this Hanyaa turned in.  If not…”

            “Then what?”

            Zizume tried to put it lightly, “I can tell that you are very attached to her…she took you in when you ran away and allowed you to continue with school and sports.  But, Haydn, look, you remember that security guard who pulled his gun out on her, right?  That won’t be the first time.  She may have been lucky this time—when Emily wasn’t…but her luck will run out and someone will resort to shooting her and will succeed.  It always works like that.  I know personally.  Don’t you think that it would be better for her to be sent to jail and live than to be shot in the middle of committing a crime?”

            Haydn was silent for a long time before he finally spoke again.  “But…you don’t understand…she can’t go to jail!  She just can’t!  “She can’t go to jail for the same reason why I can’t go to jail!  She’s just like me!”

            Zizume gave a curious look, “What do you mean?”  Haydn’s eyes began to gloss.

            “She’s…She’s just a kid…”

           

 

21: Chapter 21

Chapter 21

            Zizume sat down at the table, staring at the chessboard.  She removed a few pieces from both sides, though more so the white pieces than the black.  Her hands were clasped together, her lips pressed against them as the elbows of her arms rested at the edge of the table.  Silently, she only stared at the game and had been so for an hour or so.  June was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching Zizume in silence.  The sun was setting.

            It was a day after Lil’Red had question Haydn—though they had yet turned him into the police.  After telling the boy’s story to Big Red, Derek decided to keep him for some time longer.  They were taking care of him, yes, but Zizume worried that Big Red might be thinking about keeping him as part of The Company—although the Company Rules state that no Members under the age of 21.  However, she knew that he was a boy, with no family to go to, why would they send a child of misfortune over to the police?  Maybe her father was doing it out of protection, out of fear that the kid, terribly misguided, who appeared to already feel bad for the crimes he committed, was worried that he could, possibly, be sent to Juvenile Hall.  Maybe it was for the best.

            They could only get a name from Haydn, about who Hanyaa was—and it was a first name.  Kotone—Catharine as a second name, but preferred to go by Kotone.  He said that when she used to be fourteen, she ran away.  There was no other information he gave out.  Zizume ordered the Research Members to find someone by the name of Kotone—possibly a under “Missing” when they were fourteen.  So far, they haven’t found a thing, not at the moment at least.

            “Hey, Boss—”

            “I’m not ‘Boss’ yet.” Zizume corrected, not removing her eyes from the “game.”

            “Why don’t you talk a break, huh?” June suggested.  “You…uh, haven’t gotten enough sleep and, well, ya know.”

            “No, June, no thanks.  I’m fine.” Zizume responded.  “Any time soon my Team will be giving me who it is and all I have to do is track her down…find out where she stays…”

            “Come on!” June stood up from the bed and walked over the table and tapped on the checkered board.  “You’re too focused on this!  That says something coming from me, a workaholic.  Let’s go out and get some coffee.”

            “Maybe you’ve just developed Stockholm Syndrome,” the red head smirked.

            “I wouldn’t be surprised…” June sighed as she crossed her arms.  “Come on, I mean, at least do it for me.  I’ve been cooped up here whenever you get to go out!”

            “That’s because I work.”

            “I’d be working, too, if you guys gave me anything to do!”

            “We don’t give you much because you’re still a rooky of course.”

            “I still can’t believe you made me trade my job of being an intern for something that’s still technically like an intern…but for something more dangerous and illegal.”

            “Surprise!  Isn’t life funny?”

            June rolled her eyes.  “So, are we going to go out or not?”

            Zizume thought for a moment more.  “Fine…I guess you’re right.  There’s no point in waiting up in my room…besides, if ‘Hanyaa’ were to strike, I’d know about it.”

            “Good, let’s head over to a Café or something.”

            The two went down the halls and down the stairs, preparing to leave the Comfort Inn they were staying at for the time being.  They were walking into the entrance of the Inn, where a girl with dark brown hair stood, at the front desk, in a manner where her face couldn’t be well scene, appearing to be finishing up her stay, and having a single suitcase in one hand and a large bag on her shoulder.

            “You’ll find Hanyaa—it shouldn’t take long, right?” June said hopefully.  “We got her name after all.”

            The guest preparing to leave appeared to be listening.

            “I don’t know…I wouldn’t be surprised if Haydn gave us fake information.” Zizume stated.  “He is really fond of her…strange as it seems.”

            “Look, how hard is it to find a ‘Kotone’ here in L.A, huh?” June shook her head with a smirk.  “I mean, really.”

            “Unless she’s going by Catharine…”

            “Well, didn’t the kid say that she preferred to go by Kotone?”

            “Maybe among her colleagues, but when dealing with services or something, not as Hanyaa, maybe she goes by Catharine.”

            “You overthink.”

            “You under think.”

            The older woman behind the desk smiled as the key was returned to her, “I’m surprised that you’re leaving!  I’d suspected that you’d live here forever or something!  But, I suppose, since this is an inn—oh well!  I hope you had a nice stay, Kotone!”

            June and Zizume held their breath and glanced at each other.  The girl who was called by Kotone was frozen in her spot.  None of the three women appeared to move, appearing to be second guessing their guesses, their suspicion.

            “It couldn’t…” June whispered. “What are the odds?  Stay in the same hotel this whole time?!  That wouldn’t make any sense!”

            “It shouldn’t…” Zizume whispered back.  “It really shouldn’t…but to see how this place has been so close to where all the crimes were hit…I’m not sure, June.’

            “You’re just paranoid!  That’s what’s wrong!”

            “…I…I guess there’s one way to find out.” Zizume said—but the moment she went to take a step closer, the young woman dropped the suitcase and made a run out the door as fast as she could.

            Her suspicions were proven.  The chase was on.

            

22: Chapter 22

Chapter 22

            Little Red, now wearing at least her mask and gloves in which was kept inside the purse she carried, ran as fast as she could, trying to catch this so called Hannya.  She didn’t want to fire at her in fear that she could hurt the few civilians walking during that time of evening.  When she realized that she wasn’t keeping up with her, she took a short moment to take off her heels and run barefoot.  The chase took them down familiar the familiar road of West 7th Street, straight into MacArthor Park and down onto Wilshire Boulevard.  They continued running until they turned on from Wilshire Boulevard onto Lafayette Park Place and into the Lafayette Recreation Center.

            They ran on the grey walkway, past a few palm trees that stood together along the opening and then past a few, large-topped green trees.  They ran across the corner of the basketball court, in which another stood near, and into the light brown, sandy dirt that was rough on Lil’Red’s feet, past the benches that were scattered along the area.  Hannya ran onto a small, grassy open-area in which a single palm stood near a walkway.  She stopped into her tracks, quickly opening the rather large bag she had been carrying on her shoulder, pulling out her Tachi sword and her 9mm gun, dropping the rest of the bag.  Her back faced the Felipe De Neve Branch Library, which sat shoulder to shoulder with the Recreation Center.  The sun was down and the park was dark, and there was a considerably large distance between the two.

            “Don’t come any closer!” ‘Hanyaa’ ordered, stretching her arm that was attached to her Tachi

            Lil’Red stopped, releasing a heavy sigh before placing her feet back into her heels.  She pulled out her 9mm pistol as well.  “Look, Kotone—”

            “You have no right to call me by that name.”

            “How about Catharine?” Lil’Red asked teasingly.  “You’re not wearing your mask, so I don’t think I can call you ‘Hannya.’”

            She didn’t budge.

            “Look, I’m not going to hurt you.  If you come with me, we won’t have to fight or anything.”  Lil’Red said.  “Look, I don’t want to get into any trouble—let’s end this.  Let’s just put our weapons down, okay?”

            “So I could waste my life in prison?” She scoffed, “I’m not an idiot—you’re working with the police…even though you’re not with them.”

            “Practice for when I take over.” Lil’Red returned to the main topic.  “Just surrender now, and we don’t have to go any further than this.”

            “You don’t know me—I don’t surrender easily.”

            Lil’Red’s phone buzzed.  Keeping her gun aimed at ‘Hannya,’ she reached into the purse she had around her shoulder and pulled it out, and then she dropped her purse to the ground.  It was from the Research Members of The Company, in which they had sent a rather long text—a text about who exactly was this Kotone, or better known well as ‘Hanyaa.’  She read a few lines before her brow tightened a little in the center, her eyes showing a little disbelief.   She turned her head back up at Kotone, taking a few steps forward, which made Hanyaa tense up more, had she squinted her eyes to see past the darkness.

            Zizume dropped her hand that held the phone to her side.  “You’re only sixteen.”

            There was no response.

            “I heard that you ran away when you were fourteen, but I didn’t think that was only two years ago—!”

            “Shut up.  You don’t know me.” Kotone spoke.

            “You’re right, but I got a pretty good idea about you now.”  Lil’Red dropped her phone close to her purse.  Zizume continued on, “Haydn’s right—you’re just a kid!  What are you doing causing trouble?!  You should be in school getting an education and making friend and—”

            “Shut up, you don’t know me.” Kotone repeated.  “I’m messed up—I’ve been messed up for a long time now.”

            “No, I don’t think so.” Zizume said, taking another step forward.  “I mean, if there’s anything wrong we can get it fixed.”

            Kotone started to laugh—a rather strange, cold laugh.  “You’re not listening—you don’t know me!  Nothing can be fixed—nothing.  That’s how life works.”

            Zizume took a step closer.  “Kotone—”

            “Stop it!” Kotone practically screamed.  “Whatever you’re doing, just stop it!  You’re little pretend-act of kindness isn’t going to work!”

            There was a moment of silence.

            “You’re going to have to kill me.” Kotone said with a scary smile.

            “What?!”

            “That’s the only way I’m going to go back with you—is when I’m cold, white and dead.”  She said with a little laugh.  “Fight me.”

            “I-I’m not—!”

            Kotone lowered her Tachi to raise her other hand and fire two shots close to Zizume. “Either you fight me or I kill you here and now.”

            She wasn’t lying, of course.  She continued to fire until Lil’Red started to move and had no other choice to fire back in self-defense.  The positioning as terrible—even though Lil’Red thought that she’d have an advantage of having Hannya having her back towards the library, practically cornering her.  However, she sees now that Hannya chose an open area in which left Lil’Red out without anything to hide behind.  The moment she turns her back she would be dead.

            The two fired shots at each other, both tucking and running, circling each other—both trying not to have their back towards the Library.  Lil’Red, fortunately, ran to the single palm tree and went behind it, using the unfortunate tree as a shield from the bullets.  As she had thought from when they all had first met, Hannya obviously was more comfortable wither sword than a gun.  She shot well, but her shots were still off, especially compared to Lil’Red’s—although, Lil’Red was trying to graze Hannya as she did not wish to hurt her.

            The Company Member had her back against the tree, trying to figure out a plan, to figure out which step to take and what move to make.  While “distracted,” Hannya suck her gun in the clothing of her white skirt around her waist and put both hands onto her Tachi.  She closed distance and whirled around the tree and swung it at Lil’Red.  The sword dug into the tree though, as Lil’red had moved out of the way—though there was a cut on her upper arm.  While the sword was still into the tree, Lil’Red had swiped the gun from her waist and created further distance.  With Hannya’s gun, she emptied the gun, placing the cartridge into her pants pocket.

            The tables turned.  Hannya was left with only her sword, and if she wishes to get a hit on Lil’Red, she had to get closer—but with the two guns in the Member’s hands, distance could be easily kept.  If Hannya were to attempt to even at least try to block the bullets with her sword, it was dark, despite being in a city area and despite the single park lamp in their area, it was still difficult to see, not to mention the bullets would whizz by too fast if she could even get a glimpse of them.  Hannya had obviously lost.

            Even so, she ran towards Lil’Red at full charge, reading to die fighting at the least.   Lil’Red, turning her feelings off for a moment, calmly and coolly raised her gun once more and fired a shot, firing a bullet that damaged Kotone’s hands.  When she refused to drop her sword, Lil’Red fired one more.  That was when Kotone dropped her Tachi, stopped her running, and fell to her knees.  It was looking like a victory for The Company.

            Kotone sat there on her knees, laughing as she cried, watching the red fluid from her hands bleed out and stain her white clothing.  Lil’Red walked closer to the chuckling and weeping girl and placed her gun to her forehead.  The moment would have been silent if it wasn’t for the soft noise Kotone was making.

            “Checkmate.” Lil’Red declared softly.

            “You think you won, huh?” Kotone laughed a little more, “Why don’t you listen to me?  You don’t know me—why don’t you listen?  You think you won, huh?  No, no I said that I won’t be coming with you unless I was dead.”

            Zizume looked down at the girl, pitifully.  “Kotone…face it, you lost.”

            “No, I haven’t—not yet.  You think you won, huh?  You haven’t…  You don’t know me—you don’t know how messed up I am.”  Kotone smiled as she looked up at Zizume, straight into her eyes.  The young girl quickly wrapped her hands around Zizume’s, placing her finger over Zizume’s specific finger, and began pressing down.  Her smile grew a little more, “Nothing can be fixed.” 

            The trigger was pulled.

            

23: Chapter 23

Chapter 23

           Zizume and Derek, in Company Uniform, were at one of their many secret hide outs—the main one to be exact.  There they sat, playing a game of chess—correctly, it seems, this time.  June and Gower stood, watching the two play.  The room was dim and there was no noise to disturb the silence.  June finally decided to break the silence.

            “Don’t you…don’t you guys feel upset about what happened?” June asked.  “About that young girl…?”

            “In this job, Sable, you need to learn not to get so attached.” Answered Big Red.  “You’ll be eaten from the inside out if you’re not going to detach yourself from this line of work.”

            “Going numb is terrible.” June declared.

            “It’s not going numb,” Zizume replied as she moved one of her black pieces forward, “it’s just…putting your feelings aside for the moment.”

            “You’ll never win if you let your feelings get to attached—right, Zizume?”

            “It’s the reason why I lost.” Zizume responded, not removing her eyes from the board.

            “But, you couldn’t have prevented it, Little Red,” June said with a sigh.  “You weren’t there to stop her…  Who’d suspect that she’d take her life while locked up?”

            “Regardless, I still lost.” Zizume moved her finger along the top of her king-piece, knocking it over.

            “You lose when you allow something to get to you.” Derek sated.  “When you allow them to touch you weak spot, it is then when you lost the game.”

            “Is life seriously a game?” June asked in disbelief.

            “You’ll understand sooner or later.” Steve spoke.

            “Oh, don’t be like that Sable,” Lil’Red crossed her arms as she reclined, “We aren’t the only ones who think like that…Kotone certainly did.”

            “Who was that girl, anyways?”

            “Kotone Keiji, a sister to two brothers and a sister.  Her parents died when she was ten, so she and her older brother were left to be raised by their eldest sister and brother—thirty and twenty five at the time.  Rumor stated that after their parents died, Kotone and her brother begun to act strange—that her brother became a lot harsher towards her and begun to isolate himself, where ask Kotone stopped being what they thought was herself.  Then again, teachers and schoolmates said she never really ever had a lot of friends.”  Steve explained.  “By fourteen, she ran away.  Of course her siblings searched for her and looked, but nobody could find her.  Not to mention not many people look at ‘Missing’ posters, unfortunately.  Well, I think you know what happened from there on.”

            “She was just a poor, depressed girl…” June said with pitifulness in her voice.

            “Don’t show sympathy towards her.” Zizume ordered.

            “What?!”

            “She chose her life.  Kotone had a choice to return home, had the choice to find a new way to get help.” Zizume explained.  “She was the one who took her own life—nobody forced her.  She was given so many opportunities.  Could have gotten help from Ryan, Odalis, and even Haydn and Emily.  She gave up.  Even I, too, had given her two chances—the first time just before we started firing at each other…and the second time when my gun ran out of bullets…”

            The trigger was pulled.  There was a sound of a click.

            Yet, no bullet came out.  Zizume’s eyes were widened and her heart almost stopped.  Kotone, eyes also widened in shock, tried to pull the trigger a few more times, but nothing came out.  Her smile was completely gone now and Zizume fell to her knees as she let go a heavy sigh of relief.

            “Out of bullets.” Zizume said with a little smile.

            Kotone didn’t say a word, tears flowed but no sound was made.  Zizume gave a small, uneasy, soft chuckle, as the fear that Kotone had killed herself begun to subside.  She rubbed her forehead and looked at the girl that sat in front of her.

            “Like I said…checkmate.”

            “You haven’t won…” Kotone softly spoke as the sound of sirens grew near.  “I won’t let you win…”

            “You’re just a kid.” Zizume said.  “Maybe…Maybe if you come with me, you’ll have a second chance.”

            “No.”  Kotone refused.  “I already wasted my second chance.”

            “Well, you can have a third chance?”  There was no answer.  “Well…they could go easy on you if you plead insanity, I think…”

            “I’m insane…but I have other ways…” Kotone said.  “I’ll just start a new life—after this...I’ll win this time and then the next time around…I’ll be able to live life my own way.”

            “You think this is a game?”  Zizume asked, her eyes narrowing a little as she caught glimpse of the flashing red and blue lights from the street.”

            “Of course,” Kotone smiled, “Don’t you?”

            “We’re not the only ones who thought of life as a game…” Zizume sighed.

            “Two days after, they found her dead…many weren’t too happy about it.” Steve said.

            Zizume was silent for a moment.  “Did you know...the color white; in a lot of Asian cultures is a color of mourning or a loss of innocence?  Akuryō also means along the lines of demon?  Their masks also seem to have meaning…”

            “What about the masks?” June asked with curiousity.

            “Haydn’s mask was a Bakeneko mask—or a demon cat…the myth about this demon cat could eat the human of the house they’re living in, and may even take on their form for some time…but there’s some that, even after doing so, still show loyalty to their owner.”

            “Ryan’s mask was a samuri’s mask and he was called Ronin—a Ronin was a rogue samurai….that fit the personality he had, I’m sure.

            “Ookami is actually a name of some video game about Japanese myths, but Odalis’s mask was an okuri-inu, or ookami, which is a dog or wolf demon or something like that.  It means ‘Sending-off dog.’  They follow travelers who travel at night; as if to send them off, but if you trip they’d eat you.  If you don’t trip, they could be a blessing as they protect you from other dangerous animals…

            “Emily’s mask was a Kabuki mask…Kabuki is a style of dance or theatre dramas, though, I don’t know how come she had the mask.  All the others so far seem to make sense to why they might wear that mask, or if Kotone had given them that mask…but I don’t know about that Kabuki one.”

            “We tried looking up this Emily, but there is no record of her.  We don’t know if she came from an orphanage or if she ever truly attended school, like Haydn did.” Gower commented.  “Actually, even Haydn said their group didn’t even know much about her, though she was close with Kotone.”

            “I remember hearing that she’ll try to grant Kotone’s wish, the day that she was dying…I wonder what that wish was, or what she meant by trying to grant it.”

“Who knows, I heard she was a strange child.”

Zizume nodded before she carried on, “Kotone’s mask was an interesting one…the Hannya mask.  The mask she wears usually represents a female serpent or demon or evil spirit that became so through her jealousy or obsession…  Did you know that if you look at the mask straight on, yes, it does look horrifying, but if you tilt it down slightly, it looks as though it is sorrowful as if crying?”

            “You’re showing that she won again.”  Derek declared as he then knocked over her queen with his finger.  “You might meet several people like her.  Unfortunate, misunderstood, crazy or insane…soon, you’ll forget their stories as they are too similar to each other’s and our own.”

            Zizume nodded, “Everyone has a choice…”

            Derek added, knocking over his own king, “Everyone can make their own decisions.”

24: 1

25: 11