Sachiko Yano's Story

Before the arrival of dawn, three small green stars were becoming one with Hibiki's ceiling. Their edges were rough and scraped at by the longest nail she possessed (on her right index finger, saved from her nibbling teeth by the unconscious desire to have something to scratch with), but they had been there too long to easily peel off the way they once might have. Her parody of a starry sky was as much of a spectacle as the true skies of Tokyo at midnight, a time Hibiki once thought was when the city went to sleep and the stars quietly arranged themselves into fantastic stories that you could read if you stayed in the dark. The slightest flicker of a light could send stars scattering. A light told them that children who should be sleeping were awake and watching.

But the city did not sleep then and the lights warded away the stars until the only ones that remained were the three she was glaring at on her ceiling. They weren't the brightest, having their own light pollution to battle with in the form of flashing monitors and screens, but she was too indifferent to properly remove them so they were OK by her. Now that Hibiki was older she knew when the city really slept. It slept in the earliest hours of the morning when the sun was not yet up and the stars had all gone away. This was the time that Hibiki always woke.

On that freakishly early morning, she found herself sprawled out on the floor in a position that was obvious to anyone she hadn't meant to fall asleep in, with her shirt flipped up and revealing her stomach and her legs tangled in electrical cords. Her one exposed eye looked dead, dragged down by the dark bags beneath it, and it stared lifelessly up at the stars which reflected in her brilliantly red iris. Hibiki peeled from the carpet as one would remove themselves from a cobweb: picking off things she didn't want to touch while making faces. Her long sheet of hair was the most reluctant piece of her to get off the ground before she wound it around her hand and yanked, breaking it free of its mango iced tea puddle prison. Several wispy green casualties were left behind but would not be missed. She crouched in her over sized shirt and boxers until something turned on in her brain and she stood up – or, as up as her spine allowed her to. She scanned the room once for anything on her security footage, her eyes lingering a little too long on her beckoning laptop, then navigated over the empty food packets, video games that focused on male bonding, a build-your-own-robot kit and lots and lots of unsorted laundry. She opened the door and stepped out to be swallowed by complete darkness, but the trip had been made so many times before that she didn't need the light to oh wait nevermind. As always she forgot how big she was ever since that sudden growth spurt and clipped her little toe on the dresser. A stack of letters slid sideways off the cupboard and something that was not her squeaked and buried itself in sawdust. Hibiki muttered an apology through her pain for disturbing her pet and dropped to the ground, felt around for the letters that fell, stacked them back up and carefully (or, as carefully as she could do anything) put them in the top draw of the dresser. She mentally flipped a switch as she hobbled through the corridor on her way to the kitchen and suddenly the apartment was lit up in harsh fluorescent lighting. Vision didn't make her any less of a lumbering zombie and now she could see how gross she looked by squinting at her disgruntled reflection in the kitchen window. A cup of cold water to the face and swirling around in her empty belly made her feel queasy but woke her to some extent and her first fully comprehensible thought of the day formed, Time?

4: 17

She moved quickly now. In the main room, she pulled out her exercise mat. Her long toes clasped the edge of it like a balancing act as she tied her hair up in the usual high ponytail with the lackey around her wrist. When done she couldn't help but deliver a swift and powerful roundhouse kick to the pink punching bag hanging beside her to just remind it of who was the boss. It left an indent and the bag swung back and forth and creaked in surrender. Satisfied, she curled down and touched the ground (just managing to, her knees could never seem to straighten) to begin her morning stretches.

4:38

Hibiki's purple hood hid her matted, mango-scented hair and headphones beneath it. Her shoulders and spirit sagged when she caught a glimpse at her sickly, boyish features in the mirror, which she zipped up her red turtleneck to hide. The next ten minutes were spent bustling around collecting yen like it was a scavenger hunt mini game. Before leaving the apartment she went to swipe an easy access packet of bubblegum from the top of a kitchen cabinet when she stopped. Her hand was caught in an invisible trap between the gum and a half empty packet of cigarettes. It was only for a second, a moment that she barely picked up on herself, that her hand swayed between the two options before snatching one up and stuffing it in her pocket with such vigor it was as though she never faltered. At the door she breathed. On the other side of the door she took out her keys and locked each padlock methodically. Outside the apartment complex, she pressed play on an upbeat track (I know I know I'm lame) of a band she favoured, yanked her hood down further and began to jog.

Her neck started cramping as she jogged through the inner city and it wasn't because she spent all that time craning over a computer screen, but good guess. The skyscrapers were too flashy in the way they reflected everything below and around them that it would be a crime to not look up at them as you ran by, a crime that Hibiki drew the line at. They would probably look better with the sun shining off of them but this was the only time that Hibiki could move through this area so leisurely. Any later and this place would be full of people and moving among them would not suit her... requirements. She jogged on the spot when she caught a glimpse of Mihashira Tower, the skyscraper that served as Timeless Palace HQ, staring at its top floor distractedly through her bangs until her own urgency spurred her forward. Even with the streets devoid of activity – well, apart from the lazy cars, pigeons, occasional person who looked like they didn't want to be seen just as she much as her and food businesses preparing for opening hours – the place still felt dangerous when lingered in for too long, almost as though someone was watching her. As she left Timeless Palace behind her, her long lost cat Suzu slunk away to say good morning to her true master.

Right around the corner from the HQ of Scepter 4, Hibiki inserted yen into a vending machine and crouched down to retrieve the breakfast it dropped for her. She poked the straw into the box and began slurping the weird liquid cereal stuff as she trotted backwards all the way to the tall black gates of the formal looking mansion. Finding humor in the thought that the Blue Clan were so desperately looking for her yet had no idea that she practically paid them a visit every day (buying from vending machines was so much less stressful than shops and shops weren't open when she was hungry this early, anyway), a smug, almost villainous smile formed around the straw between her lips. She turned her back on the building, wiggled her hips, stretched out her back and yawned then glanced over her shoulder with a look that said, “And what are you going to do about it?”, an expression hidden from security cameras by her hood. She swiftly finished her drink and disposed of her rubbish in the bin provided then did some proper stretching to warm up again before jogging away.

Her own territory felt the most comfortable for her yet was the most miserable. It was so pitiful and small and it was obvious why her members were yearning after HOMRA's territory, with it being so alive and spacious and not too uptown like Scepter 4 and Timeless Palace. The territory looked more appealing than her own because of how the Red King took care of it and cared for it... unlike her... but while she had no attachment to her territory as such (her true territory was the internet, after all), she felt a strong duty to her people... despite being happy to go her entire life without exchanging a single word with them... her personal issues had nothing to do with her loyalty, I'm sure.

<JUNGLE> had the highest number of members out of the clans. Their members weren't restricted to their shabby territory, they were scattered throughout Tokyo Metropolis with other jobs and lives apart from the clan. Members could choose to remain anonymous, with their true identities and residences documented by the king. They would be known to others in the clan by their online names only so they could support the group without having the pressure of Scepter 4 shaking disapproving fists at their backs. While that was once the norm, these people were now not so lovingly referred to by higher ranked members as “Shrubs”. You see, once upon a time, the entire group were completely anonymous and wore helmets to cover their identities when representing themselves publicly. It was during the fifty years of peace that the security focused on identity was lessened and the higher ranked, more involved members of the clan felt comfortable letting their faces and names be known. Ryuu claimed this more relaxed attitude was a good thing, as proper trust began forming amongst their ranks and with the other clans. Maybe it was good. But now Hibiki was king, and she was everything Ryuu was not, and while she had proven herself worthy of the title she had no means to prove a shrub like herself was worthy of their respect. The more she thought about the problems she had before all of these murders started made a hidden piece of her stress what the heck Ryuu was thinking, appointing someone with as much social awareness as her king. Ugh, Ryuu was so good at hyping them up to believe their bonds were more important than their brains (something that Hibiki definitely did not believe in but knew was a thing she had to fake). She wished he would hurry up and get back from the Bahamas or whatever place she'd rather be that was pictured on the last postcard he sent her.

And oh God, she still had to tell him about Naomi.

She took a quick break to check out the nightclub she "managed" while she was passing by. The Jungle looked so unimpressive in the grey light with its flashing neon signs turned off and she could tell that new graffiti had been added to its ink collection. It definitely didn't look like the ideal place to set up HQ, that was for sure, but Ryuu felt that they needed a physical hang out to regain that social interaction that kids these days were missing out on and hey, sex and alcohol are what they're into, right? The girl could even smell urine coming from the alley that led to the back entrance. Her face darkened upon remembering that's where she had to go in the evening to meet up with her new Right Hand, Hirai Nakazo. This would mark her second meeting with the man and she couldn't say that she didn't dread it.

Not passing through HOMRA's territory to the grocery store that opened at seven thirty sharp would be a disruption to routine.

At the end of her sprint she halted so suddenly that she buckled and had to clutch her knees for support. She was unused to pushing herself so hard in that last stretch. Her clothes trapped her body heat and made her more uncomfortable than she should have been after her run but she would never remove an item of clothing in public. Her heart was beating fast and there was an awful pressure against her temples, not from the exercise but from something else. Passing by the unassuming bed and breakfast that served as HOMRA HQ had become harder for her as of late. She looked up in time to see the sign switch from closed to open.


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She wasn't planning to be here. She didn't owe the Grey King anything. Why did she come here instead of home? She approached the funeral home so hesitantly that anyone watching might have thought she was attending hers.

But she didn't attend. She ducked around the back and when she reached a bench she lurched. The wind took the long hair that protruded from her hood hostage and whipped her face with it like a spiteful poltergeist. It was quiet here, or, much quieter now that her music was no longer assaulting her poor eardrums. She could still hear the sounds of the city, which was now very much awake. This was the time that Hibiki would be sleeping, but at least there was nobody here - not near her, just... surrounding her... and through that wall. Walls weren't as solid to her as they were to others. How she was going to wade home through that ocean of noise and humanity was beyond her, but sitting here in the shadows made the problem seem almost OK.

Almost.

She took a lighter from one of the two plastic bags she held then dropped them on her bench to leave both hands free to light a cigarette. It took a dozen tries for her slightly too large hands to flip the fiddly switch but they did, eventually. Finally, she took a long draw of her cigarette only to double over and hack up her lungs. This continued until it became a worry. When she managed to stop she grit her teeth and straightened, bringing the poison back up to her lips. She coughed again, but quieter this time. She shut her eyes and breathed.

Name: Yamauchi Naomi. Age of death: 42 Time of death: Unknown. Information has been withheld from Scepter 4's systems, most likely because they know I'll be following the case. All that's determined is it happened two weeks ago, just three days after the death of the Grey King. Cause of death: Found floating in the river with damage to the skull. The “official” story the news covered was that she hit her head and drowned. That isn't true. Her power was summoning electrical projectiles. She was not immune to her own projectiles. Taking the fight underwater was an advantage against her abilities and her killer knew that.

That's all the information I have of her death. Now, I have to decide my next move.

Hibiki reopened her eyes and gazed at her sneakers gravely, the smoke of her cigarette spiraling away in the breeze.

They expect to go to war, she surmised with her chin in her palm, Worst of all, they expect me to lead them there.

She inhaled the smoke again, held in her protesting lungs, and leaned forward.

Naomi was floating downriver. Upriver is HOMRA territory. She could have floated down, but a body bobbing down Sumida river would not have made it far without being spotted. The way I see it, we have reasons to be suspicious but not enough of them. HOMRA deny our accusations and are not inviting conflict nor have anything to gain by initiating it, though, their hostile attitude towards us suggests they're not against it. So how much can we call solid proof and how much are we grasping at prejudiced straws? I know for a fact that some in particular would say anything to start a fight with our more powerful neighbors. It's moronic, that way of thinking.

Smoke left her mouth in a little puff and she paused.

But it isn't unjustified. This isn't the first murder in these past three weeks but this is only the second that they're aware of. Four Shrubs have been targeted. If they knew, there would be hysteria. My clan is already scared and with Yoshida-kun announced missing yesterday... I should be drawing connections between all of the murders by now. She grunted and ruffled her fringe in frustration. And yet the only connection is that they were killed in regular, unoriginal ways near or in their residences, none of them showing any sign that they had been murdered by a clansman apart from the fact that nobody BUT enemy clansmen would want us dead. Or... actually... That was a lie. <JUNGLE> were a notorious hacker group, of course they had made enemies with powerful people and anyway, the identities and residences of those who chose to remain anonymous were known by only her and her Right Hand. The other clans would not know who or where they were – nobody would. Hirai was not yet trusted enough to receive the list and Naomi... she was gone. Naomi was the victim of the second murder and the first was a Shrub. The assailant could not have taken the information from her, they already knew it. Besides, there was no mention of torture wounds. None that were disclosed to the public. With her dead, the only suspects would be me and Akiyama Ryuu. Obviously I'm not a murderer, and Ryuu... … …

“... Pfft.”

Don't laugh. Any lead is worth something at this point, no matter how unlikely. Who had gotten that information and how? Had their faces been sold out to the highest bidder? Having so many enemies didn't help her narrow down suspects at all. I have some information on the deaths of the Shrubs, which is virtually nothing apart from the fact that the police obviously must have made the shocking discovery that the corpses were <JUNGLE> members, because each investigation dropped from their records days after they were in their system. If Scepter 4 documented information useful to all of these cases on their hard drives instead of writing it down on paper I'd have already solved this crisis, unless... they've refused to take it as a case. A dozen hackers in the underground aren't worth anything to such honest citizens.

That prospect hurt more than the original thought that Scepter 4 wanted to keep the infamous J and the Green Clan out of the loop. After all of the leads and information she had leaked them that had assisted them in so many cases, how they still hunted for her stung, but it didn't insult her like considering her clan not worth their time did. She was so troubled by this she felt ill, or perhaps that was just the cigarette.

… That won't do. They have to take it. Homicide is homicide. They already know <JUNGLE>'s crimes and they've overlooked them... mostly. Will an investigation of the murders of online gang members turn into an investigation into the identity of J? They're persistent enough that I've had to change my name and move three times already, having them working with us will leave me hazardously vulnerable.

She hunched up and sucked in her breath, hardening her resolve once more.

So the decision stands as this – either go to war with HOMRA; the Red Clan that has always beaten us, and punch the truth out of the Red King at the cost of what little territory we have, or ask for the help of Scepter 4; the Blue Clan that have always hunted us and can see us behind bars, make me forfeit my place as king or perhaps execu... The thought was so horrible she couldn't finish it. She took a quick draw of her cigarette and glanced around in paranoia. The funeral home felt like it was craning over her back. Even the sky was coming too close. It has been practiced before.

Then a third option – remain stumbling in the dark as we are stripped away one by one and <JUNGLE> no longer remains. And I have to make the decision before facing my Right Hand tonight.

Yeah, like that was going to happen. She tapped the ash from the end of her cigarette when the tremors in her hand became too much to keep it steady and it dropped. Hibiki swore and took out the box and lighter but her already fumbling hands were so shaky it was even harder than lighting the first.

“What are the two most important factors of making a decision?”

“Facts and rationality,” Hibiki answered just as Naomi chuckled over the top of her, “A good view and a fag.” Hibiki stared at her blankly from her bed until Naomi felt nervous. "You know, like, a cigarette. I'm talking 'bout cigarettes." Hibiki just grunted and raised an eyebrow to signify she knew what the woman meant. Naomi nodded and lit one up, breathed it in and sighed blissfully. "It's the same way I've made every decision. Even the one to keep your sorry ass around."

There was comfortable silence, when

"Obviously, killing your lungs speeds up the thought process." Hibiki was concerned for her, but she had meant to insult her to hide it, but not loud enough for her to notice. She did take notice and her face brightened with pride.

"Did my lil' Mako-chan make a funny in the absence of a joke book? I'm actually so happy. We'll be having these things called conversations in no time." Makoto, the name Hibiki wore as her own at that time. Her cheeks burned as scarlet as Naomi's hair at her nearly sarcastic jesting and Hibiki hid behind her knees, waiting for the torment to be over. The carefree woman blew smoke from her nostrils and reassured her, "Don't worry 'bout it. When I die it'll be on my own terms. I won't end up a bloated body washed up on the shore three days after I was attacked and murdered on my way home from a date with that joke you think isn't worth the effort."

She hadn't really said that, but in that moment Hibiki was convinced that she did. The back of her throat hurt. She remembered that Naomi once attended the funeral for her aunt at this place and wondered if she was sitting at the same bench the woman sat while she smoked and reflected on her memories with her late loved one, the same Hibiki was now. The thought that her right hand could have been in the exact same place that Naomi's hand once clutched around made her palm feel strangely warm. It was a pleasant warmth, like the lingering ghost of someone's hand in hers, but she wouldn't know that. She never held anyone's hand. Giving up on lighting the cigarette, she brought her forearm over her face to shield it from the skies that were threatening to crush her. She shut her eyes and tried to breathe.

"Yo."

Hibiki had never stood up so fast in her entire life. She stood up so fast, a wave of nausea came over her and she sat back down. Her head twitched to her right to take in a small glance at he person sitting beside her to only get a glimpse of someone's torso dressed in funeral black. She returned her gaze to her unlit cigarette that was threatening to crumble in her fist she was clutching it so hard and slowly, painfully so, tilted up her head to look at the face of the man that towered over her.

That's Maeda Katsuo of Timeless Palace. She thought to herself as she stared in the opposite direction to him. That's Maeda Katsuo of Timeless Palace and I assumed his height was a typo. She thought as she licked her finger and tested the direction of the breeze. That's Maeda Katsuo of Timeless Palace and he is very tall and I'm on the grounds a funeral was held for a King and nobody knows who I am. There's only one person that might attend that people know that nobody knows. That is J. I'm the only person here on the premises nobody knows.

An endless stream of swears looped in her mind as she reached out and took the bags that separated herself from the enemy and placed them on her lap. The crinkling of plastic was the only sound to fill the awkward silence between them as Hibiki's mind ticked. She tried to light her cigarette again and again and again as she did the only thing she could do to save her identity in this situation.

"You -" her voice was so husky from not being used. She cleared her throat, keeping her chin tucked in tightly against her chest to hide her face. Damn, was there a childproof lock on this lighter or something? She could never get those things. "You were attending the funeral held here?" she asked, her voice kept down low. She then uttered a phrase she had memorised from these sorts of sad situations in films, "Sorry for your loss."

She had to make him believe that she was an outsider. In situations like these, it was lucky that lying came as naturally as breathing for her... but lately, she was having trouble with even that.

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It'd be over now, right?’ he asked himself. There had been a ceremony arranged for today in tribute to the former Grey King, but you wouldn’t find the Red King there of course. It wasn't his scene... or whatever. Instead Arata was busy propping up the bar in the Bed and Breakfast, helping himself to the collection of drink that was carelessly left unattended. Although if you couldn’t help yourself to a drink every now and again, what was the point of being King? That’s all the young man pondered at that fleeting moment; gulping down something awful and bitter, yet partially numbing at the same time. Is it too early to drink???’

Even just a little? HOMRA was hardly going to be welcomed with open arms if he suddenly decided to stroll up to the gathering – perhaps the burial by the time he'd arrive if he did attend on a whim. But in his own opinion Arata didn’t feel particularly thankful towards the deceased. Sure they were a King and the peacekeeper; but now the man was just another victim and Arata found himself more hung-up on the killer than anything else. If only because he was feeling that blame was steadily falling onto his own shoulders, which wasn’t good. Closing his eyes slowly and forcing out a heavy sigh, he raised a clenched hand and let his face fall lazily against it for support. Wonder if there was a big turn out?’ he thought, gazing dully at the hazy golden-brown liquid swirling at the bottom of the glass in his other hand.

He hadn't fully realized until now, but it was relatively quiet at the bar and not many people were around ecept for himself and a few others. Was he actually thinking that deeply? Well, that would change soon enough. ”Say. Want a sip? Before Nana finds out,” he offered the tilted glass to the smaller figure leaning on the bar at his side. ”Shh.” Sachiko was one of many reasons to frequent the place, beyond the obvious; though by far one of the better excuses to use, and besides neither of them were attending the ceremony. What was the point anyway?

Some of Scepter 4’s lot would probably be there, maybe even some Gold too, who knows? Regardless of what the attendees would think, it wasn’t like he was deliberately hiding either. Arata just didn’t want to think of death any longer. It was dull, boring and… weird. For now he decided to push it to the back of his mind and made a smiley-grin on his face, edging himself round slightly on the bar-stool. As he did, Arata began to wonder what there was to do today considering some would be at the ceremony, which made him all the more curious as to who wasn’t there. Now, that was the question.

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「Alastair Payne」
Dialogue; b49b04
Thought; 6f1313
- - -
Papers lay all around him in a mess, his head was in his hands and he had a cigarette butt in his mouth. Thick smoke filled the room like a fog as many other scattered cigarette butts lay on his desk. He had stayed the night in his office, the top floor of Mihashira Tower, he had some work he had to complete however it had taken longer than usual and he had sent everyone else home leaving him alone with mountains of paperwork and books to balance before he could go home. Though he was argueably one of the wealthiest men in the city, he lived in a run down apartment building on the south side of town, however no one knew it was him living there, he used a different name for it and even rents a more expensive penthouse in his true name so it throws off even the hackers of <JUNGLE>. He did this on purpose for his own privacy, he really doesn't like the idea of anyone being able to find his house.

Sadly his modest home had remained empty the previous evening. As his work was more pressing, if he didn't get it done plenty of big-deal businesses would be on his back, ready to strike him down. His eyes snapped open, rimmed with red around his golden iris, dark bags clung underneath them as he groaned.
"Fuck me. . ." He grumbled rubbing his neck and slowly straightening up with several complaints from his back. He slowly stood, some papers sliding off his desk as he cursed and bent down to pick them up. I'll have Mira clean it up later. . . He thought as he dropped the papers back down. His eyes then snapped to the clock and he frowned. He was going to be late to the damned funeral! He let out a stream of angered profanity as he slid his shoes and vest on, buttoning his shirt as he sprinted down the stairwell.

He tripped over the last step and gasped slightly before scowling at it and swearing vengeance before running out. His chauffeur offered a ride but he was already far down the street lighting up a cigarette as he went. His chauffeur shook his head in awe of his hard-headed boss, but was relieved he didn't have to drive him when he was in this mood.

▬▬▬▬▬

He arrived at the funeral as most people were filtering out. He folded his arms and leaned against a wall smoking, trying to conceal his labored breaths for running all the way over here. A few patrons waved to him or bowed their heads as they left and he returned the favor. He had meant to make it on time to this, he really had but the day had gotten away from him and so he had missed the proceedings. Him and the prior Gray King had been rather close, he closed his eyes under his shades and silently asked for forgiveness for missing the funeral.

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「Naoko Ita」
Dialogue; 374D82
Thought; 5C92BF
- - -
Morning filtered into her small house, however Naoko was already up and at it, she was in the small kitchen making breakfast for her father before she was going head out to the funeral. She hummed softly to herself, a happy tune that helped her start her day. The warm tones of her house seemed a bit grayer to her today, funerals were always such a sad time, even though she didn't know the woman who died all that well, it was still a big loss. She sighed softly and then smiled again, being positive is key, she told herself as she carried the scrambled eggs, bacon and hashbrowns to her father who was sitting in the chair he always occupied. A shell of the lively man he once was, his head lolled to the side a bit, it broke Naoko's heart but she still loved him no matter how bad it got she'd never abandon her father.

"Here you go daddy," she chimed as she handed him the tray, he wasn't completed inept, he just wasn't himself. He took the tray with a far off stare and she kissed his cheek softly. He grunted softly and began eating, his eyes not blinking. She sighed a bit and turned away to go change out of her pajamas into more suitable clothing for the event she was to attend. She got dressed in simple clothes and headed back out toward the door, she went over to her father and hugged him tight. "I'm heading out, please try to rest up while I'm gone. I have my phone and I will check in okay?" nothing in response. Her smile turned into a soft look of concern as she headed out, getting into her car and heading down to the funeral. The King of her organization was there so she figured she was obligated to be there as well. She hoped everyone there was doing okay, she'd have to be there for those who were hurting.

▬▬▬▬▬

She arrived and sat through the funeral in the back, even tearing up a bit at some of the testimonies. She watched reverently and then as people began filtering out, she sniffled a bit and dabbed at her eyes. She rose slightly and went out, she spotted miss Ikeda and two people smoking together. She glanced around and spotted Mr. Payne off on his own, strange he hadn't been in the service? She supposed it wasn't any of her business. She wanted to find Miss Emi. She scanned the crowd and sighed softly not seeing her right away. So, she went over to a woman who was taking it rather hard and began to console her.

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XXXXXi Theme: Crawl by Veltpunch
X Dialogue : #EE1D24 | Thought : #959595
XXX FC: Aizawa Kouichi | Nabari no OX
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「Nakano.Yuka」
Dialogue ♣ #FFCC8F
Thoughts ♣ #F96B6B




Mornings after the late shift was by far Nana's least favorite part of running the bed and breakfast. Sprawled with half her body barely even on top of the bed, the woman was not ready to start the day when her alarm blared once again. Then again, who ever really is? However, after the fifth time hitting snooze that morning, she was sure her charges would be getting peckish.

Reluctantly slipping out of her ever so comfortable pajamas into the uniform imposed on her by her father followed by her excessively long morning routine, she was finally ready to face the world. Albeit, all the makeup in the world could never qualm the irritable creature that crawls out of her bed every morning. That was caffeine's job.

Making a bee line straight to the bar. Nana had every intent to start off her day well, after a cup of coffee of course. This was ruined by a certain someone who had completely ignored the sign on the door and took the liberty to begin to drain her bar, coaxing the little girl who accompanied him into joining in on the drinking. Giving him a key was by far one of her greatest regrets.

"She's right. You can't drink that, Rat." Nana shot a glare towards the King that had been taking advantage of her precious bar. "Get a drinking partner your own age. Maybe you'd be able to find one if you went somewhere that's actually open. When the sign says closed, it isn't a suggestion." Geez, she couldn't even leave them alone for more than a minute. Somehow she hadn't gotten any grey hair from the constant scolding she had to do. At this point she was beginning to think that has more to do with the fact she dyes her hair so often that her true hair color is never seen, than any miraculous strength of hers.

"Do you know if Tooru's up yet?" The boy was the only one of the residents not yet present, it wouldn't make sense to make a large breakfast if the boy was already out. Wasting food was basically the same thing wasting money. "Chiko, honey, what would you like to eat."

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XXXXXi Theme: Wildifre by JubyPhonic
Xi Dialogue : #FF4500 | Thought : #FF8C00
XXXXii. FC: Hinata Shouyou | Haikyuu!!X
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SORA ARAKIDA
Five minutes after the funeral and Sora was already lost. She knew she shouldn't have let go of her parents' hands even momentarily to go and look at a stray cat, but what's done is done. Looking at the many pairs of legs towering above her, Sora tried to squeeze past and manoeuvre through to find someone from the gold clan. Would Alastair and Mira have already noticed her disappearance? Possibly not, because Alastair and Mira had other things to do. Katsuo will be too busy taking care of his little Sister, it looks like she was on her own with this once.

Surprisingly, Sora was alright with that. The event was boring even for her, spending her time playing cat's cradle obediently on the chair while her parents went to offer their condolences. It wasn't a huge surprise that the girl decided to wander off on her own. Her only worry was about disobeying her parents as she skipped off, heading out to play. After saying hello to some stray cats on the streets, Sora arrived at the bread and breakfast, the place where the HOMRA clan congregated.

She was always warned against going there for some reason, but Sora didn't mind HOMRA. Her Friend was in there after all. Sachiko was cheerful and strong, she always knew what to do or play. Knocking on the door politely before she peeked out, Sachiko headed to the bar table a little hesitantly. Not all of them are huge fans of her clan, after all, for reasons that Sora didn't understand. Alastair was a nice man for as Long as she remembered, and Sora had knew him all her life. Remembering Mira's lessons to be confident and mind her manners, Sora dipped her head down in a small bow. "Good morning! Can I play with Sacchan?"

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”Well,” dropping his head sideways Arata gazed down at the small girl. ”We can do whatever you want, Sachiko.” he said while leaning back, and drawing the glass away from the child. Honestly, it was always so refreshing having a young mind around the place. He could even remember himself at that age, and realized now how more difficult adults were. Speaking of which, it was only just then that the owner emerged and was quick to scold the pair – or rather only him. But Arata just let the whole thing bounce off him like it was nothing. ”Someone woke on the wrong side of the bed,” he remarked, setting the glass down on the bar. ”Anyway, why give me a key if you don't want me to use it? I was doing you a favour.”

His thoughts were interrupted for a moment as Tooru appeared then, practically answering Nana's question on the nail. But towards the boys own inquiry the King merely gave a bored, ”I'm not going,” before spinning round fully on his seat away from the bar. ”If no one from HOMRA has been killed then that must mean the killer is from HOMRA,” Arata continued minutes after, addressing the young clansman. ”You know that's what they'll be thinking, right?” It was hard to tell who he meant exactly, but it was hardly the first time HOMRA would be on the short end of something. If there was blame to be given they certainly got their fair share of it. That much nobody could deny. ”Anyway, the funeral's not a big deal. It's just a sad gathering,” he sighed, tapping an irritable finger against the bar in hectic rhythm. ”But... if you really want to go I won't stop you, Tooru. You could be our eyes and ears there if you're up for it,” Arata suggested, tossing it out there to see the boys reaction.

There was an unexpected knock at the door following after that, and Arata quickly grew curious over who it was that visited them at such a time. Of course, his expression flipped the moment a golden-haired child appeared before them, and right away he recognized them from the Gold Clan. ”Sora, right?” It was the little girl around Sachiko's age, having heard her name in passing on the street, and whom also he recalled was friends with their young strain. Even Arata couldn't deny Sachiko a friend, even if it was from Alastairs' bunch. Though that wasn't to say he didn't tell her the troubles that came with befriending an opposing clan-member. ”Why not? I don't see the problem in having some fun for now,” he grinned, realizing that Alastair probably wouldn't enjoy the thought of having one of his own under HOMRA'S roof; if he was even aware of the little girl being away. ”Oh, and this ain't the Palace. You don't need to bow here kid.”

With that said he sprung his attention back into the direction of his right hand, hoping that the woman had forgiven him some in the handful of minutes. ”Now, what was that about food, Nana? Do I get a breakfast on the house or what?” He was pushing his luck and he knew it.

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XXXXXi Theme: Crawl by Veltpunch
X Dialogue : #EE1D24 | Thought : #959595
XXX FC: Aizawa Kouichi | Nabari no O



XXXXXi Theme: Wildifre by JubyPhonic
Xi Dialogue : #FF4500 | Thought : #FF8C00
XXXXii. FC: Hinata Shouyou | Haikyuu!!X
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「Nakano.Yuka」
Dialogue ♣ #FFCC8F
Thoughts ♣ #F96B6B




One of Nana's questions was answered almost immediately by the redheaded boy who entered the room. Having made her coffee and downed half of it, she was no longer in bear mode like she had been moments ago. A bit more awake now than she was earlier.

"Pancakes and toast it'll be then." Smiling down at the little girl, Nana couldn't help but feel a bit happier. Sachiko was a little bit of relief in the sea of men and boys that made up HOMRA. If it were up to her the whole of the organization would be made up of kids, they'd probably get into less trouble than the current members at least.

A knock on the door pulled her attention away from the shelves she was pulling the pancake ingredients from. A blonde girl peered into the room, giving a cute little bow and asking if she could play with Sachi. Sora was the girls name if she could recall, Sachi had brought the girl by to play before. The other girl may be a member of Timeless Palace, but holding a child accountable for their clan was something only stick in the muds like Scepter Four would do.

"Of course Sora can stay to eat with us. If you two want you can even use the big television here." About to turn back to whip together breakfast, she stopped as a question popped into her head. "Sora, are pancakes okay with you? You don't have any, allergies right?" Having a bunch of angry Golds banging on her door because she got sick didn't exactly appeal to her.

Of course HOMRA's King would take this as an invitation that he should get some free food as well. "Fine, just this time though. Don't come by expecting handouts now, okay? Tooru had left without eating after all, she could afford to make a bit extra for the man. As long as he didn't start making a habit of coming by for freebies. "What are you doing here so early anyways? Other than cleaning out my bar for free, that is. Those drinks are going on your tab by the way, we do have security cameras you know? Not that she actually expected him to pay it anytime soon.

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Heh, they're cute.' Curiously observing the young duo with only a subtle grin giving away what he thought, the man could easily tell that Sachiko was over the moon at the mere presence of the other little girl. Arata couldn't blame her though. After all when was the last time his youngest member got someone their own age to hang around with? Sora was all the girl had and there was only so much he could offer her in that sense. Plus Tooru was already off and away to the funeral at that moment, even if it was a bit strange that the boy was incredibly eager to be there. But Arata didn't think much of it. ”Well you sure know how to make someone feel welcome here Nana,” he sighed a bit, not overly surprised that the little Gold Clan girl got a warmer reception than him. The woman really did have a soft spot for the children and he could appreciate that, although that generous nature didn't seem to stretch to the adults as often; even the King it appeared.

”Anyway... where else would I be?” Arata remarked and leaned on the bar, folding his arms against the edge and pushing on them. ”You'd only miss me if I didn't come here and nowhere else was open. So I just figured I'd let myself in.” Nana was such a nagging woman. But she sure did keep HOMRA in line which was something; even Arata possibly needed her more than he would ever let on. ”Yeah, yeah. I get it already. You know I'm good for it?” He flashed a reassuring grin to the girl and hoped that was enough to keep her satisfied. It wasn't like he didn't want to pay or couldn't, but Arata always found this way more amusing. He'd often do it with quite a few people actually, though he half wondered why some put up with his antics.

Arata kept still while sitting perched at the bar, watching as Nana made sure the young girl wasn't allergic to anything before going off to attend to the breakfast. She really was a sweet young woman, wasn't she? It was almost a pity she had him for King. ”Must be kinda' boring here for you kids, huh?” he causally asked the pair of girls, his mind already sunk in thought. He never really knew what it was Sachiko did around the Bed and Breakfast for entertainment in his absence; heaven forbid Nana let the child have any proper fun! But then again Arata could hardly imagine Alastair letting little Sora have any fun either.

No wonder the poor kid comes here.' Arata mused when leaning back in his seat rather quietly, raising both hands slightly and then quickly motioning some gestures at his little follower. Oh no, they weren't sign language. If anything it was almost complete gibberish to an unassuming eye; yet with enough refinement that a ten year old could just grasp it. Seemingly Arata had taught her something useful from all those afternoons together, a thing that only they would know and share. ”Think I'll just get some air or something. Funerals, you know. They can get to you,” it might have been the lamest excuse he could use, if not one of the most obvious lies he could tell, but Arata swiftly rose from his seat and slipped down onto the floor. ”Oh and don't burn the toast Nana,” he called over his shoulder towards the direction of the kitchen, before slinking out the door that lead out to the back area of the building. What am I even doing? Heh.'

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The second Emi touched Nao's hair, Nao froze, whole body stilling unnaturally as if he were a character on tv and someone had pressed the pause button. But it only lasted less than an instant - in a second he was pulling back, blinking in surprise and smiling as if nothing was wrong, although his eyes held a bit of irritation and confusion. That moment had happened so fast that anybody not looking would have missed it, and anybody looking wouldn't have realised it unless they were specifically looking for it. Nao fell back a couple of steps, smile hiding the torment going on in his head.

First - irritation. Emi had touched his hair. Repeat - Emi had ruffled his hair like a child (alright, he was thirteen - or fourteen, who knows - but he wasn't a child! He was a preteen! Not a child!) and his ponytail, as perfect as he could tie it as taught by Naoko during the past year, was now.... not perfect. What if Riku noticed? Riku liked perfection! And as his saviour was good at being perfect Nao was doing his best to emulate him and now it was gone.

And did Nao mention that he was being treated like a child? Which he wasn't - he had done things no kid should do, which meant he wasn't a kid like everyone thought he was! So there!

Second - it actually felt kinda... good. Like praise. Weird. Nao resisted the urge to reach a hand up to his head to check his hair- not yet.

Third...

Calm down, heart. She's the Blue King. She's not... them. Being pat on the head is ok and not a threat.

"Ok!" Nao chirped cheerfully instead. Damn, his escape path was gone.... Or maybe not. Nao took a deep breath, shoulders tensing as he steeled himself. "But you might get hungry on the way, so I'll see if i can take some for you before you go!" He said brightly, beaming his biggest sincerest smile, and with that he turned tail and walked towards the snack area as fast as he could without looking like he was running. "I'm also hungry, so I'll get some for myself too!" He said cheerfully behind his shoulder, trying not to think of whether he was going to get punished for taking the initiative for this step. It was only after he was out of sight and a good time away that Nao slowed to a normal walking pace, allowing the smile to drop from his face with a smile.

It had taken a bit long, but Nao had eventually learnt that it was ok to ask for things, ok to eat more than what he needed to survive, ok to just... y'know. Ask shit. Talk back. But this was new territory, and it was still a bit nervewracking testing the boundaries.

A lot of things were nervewracking, if Nao had the will to admit it.

Not the time, however. Bringing his hands up to his hair with a sigh, Nao neatened his ponytail the best he could with only his hands for a comb. Then he went to grab snacks - small cakes, peanuts, small finger sandwhiches. There were a few left over, and Nao wasted no time loading some into a convenient plastic bag for takeaway, stuffing a few into his cheeks too. He hadn't been kidding about wanting some himself. Chewing thoughtfully on a chocolate roll (mmmchocolate), Nao was making his way back when a man flung his arms wide, nearly smacking him in the face.

Almost instinctively, Nao dodged back, hands raising up and curling into fists as he prepared himself for a punch - but no, it was just a man gesturing expressively to his friends, letting out a hearty roar of laughter. Even as Nao watched they were already fading away into the crowd. With a frown, Nao dropped his hands - only to realise that he had accidentally knocked someone over when he had taken a flashstep back.

Whoops.

He looked down. What he saw was a small child with brown hair - a girl around a head shorter than him who looked familiar. Taking a step back, Nao's eyebrows wrinkled. "Sorry, for knocking you over," he said, sounding only a little apologetic. He had bumped into her, after all. "Watch where you're going next time, please," he added, only remembering to use 'please' at the last moment. Tucking the plastic bag of snacks into his belt as if it were a strap on pouch, Nao hesitated a bit before bringing a hand out towards her for the girl to take.

Helping people up was what Riku would have done, after all.

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