Wow, I'm still alive. Chapter rated PG for some scenes, viewer discretion is advised. Long chapter due to extra omakes.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except for this fic itself.

Act 4: Adrenaline Shot

The walls of the empty, dingy little Bar were tinged a warm red, giving the place a warm and cosy atmosphere. Yukinoshita Yukino did not feel very warm nor cosy in her current predicament. She sat ramrod straight in the nice wicker chair, not moving a muscle while trying to keep her breathing as even as possible. Her graceful hands were clenched tightly on her lap, knuckles bone-white from her grip. To be honest, she was just waiting for the proverbial shoe to drop.

Sitting across her was none other than Hiratsuka Shizuka, puffing away on a fat cigar. The underground crime boss of Chiba looked like a Shark that had taken human form- dangerous in a primal sort of way, predatory. The pearly-white grin she bore helped enhance the image, gleaming in the dark like a Cheshire Cat's smile. Lesser men would have broke in her mere presence- Yukinoshita opted to keep herself calm in an impressive display of willpower. Splayed on the table before them were sensitive documents, information that would lead to chaos and unrest if they were ever revealed to the general public. Information that someone involved in the National Diet was also involved in Yakuza-related business.

The Yukinoshita Patriarch, to be precise.

"I think you're gonna find… when all this shit is over and done-" Hiratsuka paused to breathe out a drag of her cigar, right into the younger girl's face. Yukinoshita did not budge, barely even blinking as she kept her gaze solemn, defiant. She couldn't afford to show any weakness, not now. Not ever. "I think you're gonna find yourself one smiling motherfucker."

The schoolgirl grit her teeth but kept her expression perfectly neutral, keeping silent for now. Hiratsuka went on, perhaps uncaring of what she thought. "The thing is, Yukinoshita- right now... you got ability. But painful as it may be, ability don't last."

Hiratsuka took another swig from her glass, swirling the ambrosia within and eying it lazily. "I see a lotta potential in you, girlie. Just like I had back in your first year- but you turned down my offer, didn't you? Consider this… a new proposition."

"What do you want?" Yukinoshita said slowly, her hands clenched tighter than ever. The teacher-crimeboss got her by the strings, and she knew it. Hook, line and sinker. Hiratsuka leaned in closer, her eyes piercing and focused despite the alcohol. It was like staring into pools of tar, empty and all-consuming.

"Same thing I wanted a year ago, Yukinoshita. I want you on my team." She said, her voice almost a whisper. "Join me, and the documents are all yours. You're free to do what you want with them- destroy them or use them, the choice is yours. These are the only copies in the world. This is your moment."

"I'm afraid you'll have to elaborate." The girl answered flatly.

"Aren't you tired of living in your sister's shadow… under your mother's thumb? How did it feel, I wonder, to find out poor old daddy was the same?" The older woman crooned, her tone almost seductive, sultry and slithering into her ears. She was the Serpent in the Garden, whispering to Eve. "Controlled and manipulated by horrible little criminals just like me."

Yukinoshita's eyes narrowed into razor-thin lines. "Leave my family out of this."

"Think about it, Yukinoshita; join me and your father- no, your family, will be free from Yakuza influence. Is that really such a big price to pay… your safety for theirs?" Her former teacher leaned back, teeth glinting in the blood-red light. "The Hiratsuka-kai will guarantee their safety, I assure you."

"You're insane if you think I'll join your gang of thugs. Look around you- its like the city's gone mad. Violence in the street, rumors of kids with guns!"

"Kids are cruel, Yukinoshita. All people are, by nature- they just lose touch when they get older. Start thinking they know right and wrong. 'That's immoral!' Crimminal-this, Code of Conduct-that..." The woman's grin was now stretching ear to ear, a strange gleam in her eyes. A slow shiver crept up Yukinoshita's spine as she watched what became of the woman who she once called Sensei. How had things gotten so wrong? Somewhere along the line something had changed, twisted the once wonderful woman into this power-hungry psychopath. "Kids you can mold, manipulate into performing all kinds of atrocities."

"I'll repeat my previous statement: You're insane. You disgust me, and I'm ashamed I ever looked up to you as a person, let alone a teacher."

"Don't be like that, you're breaking my poor old heart. Like I said before, ability don't last. Gotta train them up when they're young, am I right? Besides, all of this is for the greater good."

"Greater good?" The schoolgirl could hardly believe what she was hearing. "Has all that alcohol made you delusional? The murder rate in Chiba is higher than ever, not to mention the other cities which-"

"In contrast to the crime rate, which is the lowest in history? My enforcers have literally stopped crime dead in its tracks, if you'll pardon the pun. We're doing a better job than anyone ever could. We're the ones building infrastructure, developing housing, fixing problems that the cops never could. " Hiratsuka spread her arms wide in a dramatic fashion, basking in her own glory. "You never understood what I did. Fifty of me and this Country would be alright. I took the trash out. I did! And I'd do it all over again."

The distance between them felt almost physical, punctuated with short puffs from the criminal's cigarette. "The country's GDP is rising higher than ever before, a greater increase than ever the post-war economic miracle; sky-high, baby! We're making Japan a better place. Side-effects won't last."

"And scaring the general public into submission is just a 'side-effect'? Don't give me that 'blood of the patriots' nonsense. What you're doing is a hostile takeover of Chiba; nothing more, nothing less." Yukinoshita said, her hands trembling now. "Just like your father and brothers of the Hiratsuka-kai in the other cities. You're a monster."

"A little fear never hurt anybody. We're changing the Country, kiddo. In fact, I think I should have done this long ago! Or would you rather have me stay as a teacher, teaching inane lessons about 'cooperation' and 'friendship'? Hah!" A cackling laugh, followed by another puff of choking smoke.

"Maybe then you wouldn't have forgotten them." Yukinoshita growled, venom in her voice. That statement had hurt Hiratsuka, and she knew it. Her former teacher paused, and for a moment there was a minute flash of hurt in her eyes. When she blinked it was gone, replaced with a cold, silent fury.

"Tch. We can't make everyone happy, Yukinoshita. Some interests have to come first." She grinded the end of her cigar against the mahogany table, leaving a scorched stain on the fine wood. Just like the stain of her memory in the schoolgirl's mind. "You gotta break a few eggs to make an omelet."

Yukinoshita took a deep breath, then steeled herself. She looked right into her former mentor's eyes and gave her reply. "I'm sorry sensei… but I'll have to refuse your offer once again. I can't- I won't join you."

The two sat still in that single, tense moment until Hiratsuka broke the silence with a disappointed sigh. "Then you're just another egg."

Yukinoshita's eyes widened as the criminal's hands started to move downwards- her own hand twitched on the backup plan she'd hidden in the waistband of her skirt, borrowed from her father's office-

Hiratsuka promptly swept up the documents on the desk and tapped them on the table surface just as Yukinoshita's hand tightened on her father's revolver, the weapon cocking with a soft, nearly imperceptible click. The older woman didn't seem to notice, flipping through the documents before sliding them into a neat manila folder. Yukinoshita realized she was holding her breath, and continued to do so for what seemed like hours as she slowly relaxed her grip on the weapon. False alarm… just calm down...

"Here. Take it." The folder was thrust forward, Hiratsuka extending it like a peace offering. In retrospect, it probably was.

"Why give away your only bargaining chip?" The brunette accepted the item with suspicion, keeping her face straight. When she tried to pull it away however, Hiratsuka still held on tight, her expression nostalgic.

"I suppose you take it as an olive branch between you and me… a peace offering, if you will. Despite everything, I still see you as my student." Hiratsuka finally let go of the folder, straightening her spotless lab-coat as she did. She still wore the damn thing even now. "Consider this a final act of charity."

"This changes nothing. But- I- Thank you… Sensei." This was an unexpected turn of events. Fortunate, but unexpected. Yukinoshita inspected the folder for a moment, before slipping it into her schoolbag carefully. Those documents were worth their weight in gold to her- With this, she could help her family… even if they didn't know it. She had no intention of telling them either, it didn't matter if she was an unsung hero. Even if they were in another city right now there was no telling how far the Hiratsuka-kai's reach stretched, once she disposed of these they would be a little safer.

"Oh, and Yukinoshita? I really hate that sound, you know." Hiratsuka hummed, her feet kicking up onto the now empty table. Another drag of smoke permeated the air between them with a thick, poisonous stench.

"I beg your pardon?" The girl asked, genuine confusion evident in both her tone and features.

"Oh, you know..." Hiratsuka smirked, her smile snakelike and malicious as her voice lowered to a literal hiss. "The click of a .44 hammer cocking."

Neither of them moved, though the schoolgirl could have sworn she felt her heart skip a beat. The moment lasted for those few, agonizing seconds as it felt as though time itself had come to a painfully slow grind. Hiratsuka chuckled after what seemed like an eternity, a low, throaty rumble that would have made babies cry.

"See you around, Yukinoshita. Maybe sooner than you think. If you ever need me…" A pair of sunglasses flicked out from within the woman's coat pocket, coming to rest on her graceful features. "-you know where to look."

The schoolgirl said nothing, instead proceeding to the bar counter ahead for a drink. As she went, not once did she look back at the woman who she once called her mentor.

[8]

The door to the bar opened with an annoying squeak as a thin, mustached man eyed the two newcomers. The bartender chuckled as he saw the teenage pair before him, dressed in the some of the most ridiculous attire he'd ever seen in his aged life.

"Well, if it isn't Hikigaya-kun and Yumiko-chan. Come in, come in!" He patted them both on the back as they made their way inside, still amused at their fashion choice. "Goddamn, what's up with those clothes?"

"You don't even want to know." Hachiman answered bluntly, his grip tightening around the briefcase as if to make sure it was still in his hand.

"Where's the big boss?" Miura asked, strolling in like she owned the place. Straight to the point, that girl was.

"The boss' right over there taking care of some business. Why don't you two hang back a second or two. You see the new girl leave, just go on over."

The pair sat down at the counter even as the graying bartender brought out some bottles, already preparing drinks for the two employees. The bartender also worked as the group's Medic/Doctor, and was one of Hiratsuka's most trusted lieutenants.

"How've you been, Kamiki-san?"

"I've been doing pretty good, how 'bout you two?"

"We're all right." Out of the corner of her eye, Miura noticed that Hachiman was eying the new girl with a contemplative expression, quieter than usual. It was like there was an invisible, unseen spark between them. His fingers drummed against the mysterious briefcase rhythmically as she sulked, a small spike of jealousy building up within her despite herself.

"So I hear you're taking Totsuka-kun out tomorrow." The bartender's voice brought her back to reality, causing her to blink.

"At the boss' request!" She said defensively, looking to Hachiman in a hurry. He looked slightly amused, raising his eyebrow and sipping at his bottle of ice-cold coke. "We're just friends, I'm telling you- he's not my type. Besides, I already have someone I l-like."

"Oh my. Who's the lucky- or should I say, unlucky guy?" Hachiman teased, causing her to blush a deep red.

"That's for me to know and you to never find out." She hissed angrily, punching him on the shoulder. His only response was to chuckle as he got up, excusing himself while he made his way to the washroom.

Miura huffed as she stirred her drink, watching the ice cubes tumble and spin within the dark liquid. Hikio could be so dense sometimes… that idiot.

"He's a dense one, isn't he?" Kamiki laughed from behind the counter, voicing out her exact thoughts while in the middle of counting inventory. "Don't worry about it, it was the same with me and my wife. Look at me, married for thirty years now. You'll get your feelings across someday, even if you have to hammer it into his thick skull."

"I don't know what you're talking about." The blonde said flatly, still staring at her drink.

"Let's face it, everyone knows that you like Hikigaya-kun… except he himself is too dense to notice anything- if he did he probably chalked it up to signs of friendship or whatever nonsense is going through that delusional head of his. You should just tell him straight up-"

"Ah, shaddup." Miura groaned, taking a quick gulp of her beverage. "You talk too much, old man. Go back to counting your coins and whatnot."

The bartender shook his head, chuckling about kids these days and how they have no respect for their elder's advice. Miura rolled her eyes, still sipping at her coke when the new girl that was talking to Hiratsuka came up beside her, apparently intent on ordering a drink.

The other girl didn't even look in her direction as she addressed the bartender, her crystal-clear voice conveying her orders perfectly. "Water."

"You want some ice with that?"

"Yes."

Miura narrowed her eyes as her lips thinned to a dangerous line, glaring at the girl. She was in Hikio's spot. And the way he'd been interested in her presence… she already had a bad feeling about this newcomer. Miura felt as though she had seen this girl somewhere before… and then it clicked. Sobu High. This was Yukinoshita Yukino, one of the 'Elites' of the school. What the hell was she doing here?

The brunette finally noticed Miura glaring at her, and returned it with an equally cold yet haughty stare. Fire and ice clashed as blazing emerald eyes locked with frosty sapphire ones. The two girls were silent, but the tension between them was so thick that one could cut it with a butter knife. Kamiki the bartender opted to stay quiet as he placed the glass of ice water onto the counter as gently as possible, treating it as if he was handling a live landmine.

"You looking at something, friend?" Yukinoshita broke the silence, unwilling to back down.

"You ain't my friend, Ice-Queen." The blonde adjusted herself so her body now so she now fully faced the other girl, her voice dripping with dislike.

To her credit, Yukinoshita didn't even blink at that, instead mirroring Miura's body posture as she faced her new adversary. Her eyes were like chips of ice as they glared right into hers. "What was that?"

"I think you heard me just fine, Frosty."

Yukinoshita seemed to gaze down at her from above, despite the fact that the were eye-to-eye and nearly at the same height on the counter. Internally Miura prepared herself for the incoming verbal retort- the brunette's seemingly holier-than-thou attitude of superiority was starting to piss her off.

Before either of the girls could say anything, Hiratsuka's booming voice cut across the bar like a scalpel through flesh, ending their standoff. "Yumiko Miura's in the house? Girl, get your ass over here."

Miura reluctantly broke eye contact with the Ice-Queen, making her way across the bar subsequently greeting from the crime-lord with a quick bow. Yukinoshita watched the scene unfold with equal parts disbelief and annoyance, though her cold features betrayed no emotion beside the slight clenching of her jaw.

"What's up?"

"Sensei, I'm really sorry-"

"You shouldn't worry about it."

Yukinoshita brought the glass of water to her lips and drained the entire vessel in a single sitting, paying the bartender the measly amount it cost. Despite it being plain water she still felt a strange, bitter taste in her mouth. With that she made her way to the door, waiting to leave this god-forsaken place and go back home already.

"Tch."

That girl and Hiratsuka reminded her a little too much of how she herself used to look up to the teacher.

[8]

"Assuming you have it inside a house where you can work on it a bit, the first thing you want to do is drain it of fluids- this will make it easier to cut up and slow decomposition a bit. The best way to do this quick is to perforate the body with a knife, then perform CPR on it-"

"Ehhhhhh~ I'll have to kiss a dead guy? That's gross as hell, I don't wanna do that!" The young girl complained, interrupting the older one's explanation.

"CPR doesn't mean you have to kiss the corpse, just means you have to get air into its lungs and start pumping the chest like you're trying to bring it back to life." The older girl's twin braids swung lazily as she explained, the majority of her focus still on the small remote-controlled car before her that was darting around the room. "You see, the valves in the heart still work when dead, and the springback of the ribcage will help too. Do this in a bathtub, of course. So remember, after you slit the femoral arteries on the thighs, pump all of that blood out with the bathplug still in."

The younger girl was still listening, though she kept switching her attention between the disassembled gun on the table before her and her senior's wise advice. As if to show that she was still listening, she nodded her head, little remarks and questions popping up occasionally. The television played a cheesy soap opera in the background, adding a little irony to the situation.

"Then, make sure to mingle lots and lots of bleach with the bodily fluids before unplugging the drain to empty the tub. This will help control the stench of death, which would otherwise reek from your gutter gratings- do everything you can do to control or mask the odors." The senior continued, surprisingly enthusiastic.

"Excuse me." Miura interrupted the pair's conversation, leaning over in interest. Her crisp suit wrinkled slightly as she made her way a little closer from the sofa. "Shiromeguri-san, right? I was just curious, but, um… how do you know how to do all this?"

"Yo, Yumiko-san. Shiromeguri-sempai is teaching me how to get rid of dead bodies." The redhead piped up, the weapon on the table now fully assembled as she patted it.

"So I've heard." To be quite honest with herself Miura never did like Sagami very much, often associating her with having a rather bitchy personality. Even now, Miura still thought of the redhead as a mere acquaintance, nothing more. The fact that they both shared a class was irrelevant; the two of them hardly even talked to each other in school.

"You're one of the newer girls like Sagami-san, right?" Shiromeguri replied sleepily, her eyes half-lidded. "I'm Shiromeguri, nice to meet you. I guess I'm your sempai."

"Err… yeah. I'm Yumiko, likewise." Miura bit back the urge to comment that she already knew her name. Maybe Shiromeguri wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer but she still had to show some respect to a senior in the Family.

"To answer your question, I know all this because it is required in my line of work… though most of it is from personal experience, I suppose. If I'm not wrong, you're Hikigaya-kun's current partner?"

The blonde blinked, slightly surprised. "Ah, yes. You've worked with him before?"

"No, but I've read his file. Quite the impressive record, I must say. But basically, you know how every one of us has at most two different specializations to focus on? An example: for Hikigaya-kun, it's Asset Retrieval and Firearms. I think you'll know your first one in like, a month or two."

Miura cocked an eyebrow, reveling in this new information. Asset Retrieval, huh. That would explain why he was assigned to retrieve that stupid briefcase in the first place.

"Mine's Intelligence. I'm working on getting my Firearms specialization." Sagami remarked, holding up a weapon part with all the care of a mother cradling a child. Only now did Miura notice the strange-looking purse nestled in her lap, tan leather with a design depicting a Dragon encircling a moon. How gaudy.

"You don't seem very intelligent to me."

"Witty as always, Yumiko-chan~" the redhead replied, her tone full of sarcasm.

"Anyways, I suspect you've met Kawasaki-san?" Shiromeguri asked, the RC car zooming across the room in short bursts of speed. Something bulky was attached to it, but it was moving so erratically she couldn't quite make it out.

"Yeah, actually. So I suppose..."

"Yeah. One of her specializations was Disposal, same as me. We used to work together, actually. I believe her second one is… Driving. Basically she can act as your getaway driver, if you ever need one. Odd choice for a girl."

"So what is your other specialization, anyways?"

At that, Shiromeguri gave her a warm smile and thumbed a button on the controller. The RC car stopped right before Miura's feet and did a small bump into her, prompting her to look down at it. Attached to it with multiple pieces of duct tape was a lumpy brown block, something that almost caused her to recoil when she finally realized what it was. Though its shape was slightly distorted by the tape wrapping around it, the object was clearly labeled with bold black letters.

DEMOLITION BLOCK

COMPOSITION C4

In the extra space under the lettering, the words "Sheer Heart Attack" were scribbled in bright pink marker and cursive handwriting, as if to make a statement. When Miura looked back up at Shiromeguri in disbelief, the older girl still wore that warm, sleepy smile on her face.

"What do you think?"

Miura was spared from answering when a voice called out for her, derailing her train of thought.

"Yumi-chan? I'm ready~ step into my office!"

[8]

The bespectacled girl grinned, still drying off her short locks with a hairdryer. They were in a spacious room with a large bed, cupboard and desk complete with a desktop computer. Everything was bleached in sickening shades of white and pink, giving the room a girlish demeanor. Ebina Hina hummed in satisfaction after she was done, putting on her glasses giving the other girl a quick once-over.

"So, what can I do for you today, Yumi-chan?"

"Hina, do you know that a live explosive is currently racing across your living room?" Miura asked incredulously.

"Hmm? Oh, don't worry. Shiromeguri-san knows what's she's doing. Also, she's going to be staying here since for the time being since her old safehouse blew up. Don't worry, she was living alone at the time."

"Do you not see the literal contradictions- you know what- forget it. I'm just going to pretend I didn't see that and trust you."

"It blew up because of a completely unrelated incident, I assure you-"

"Forget it. I need a few things, but let's start with a new gun; the piece of junk you gave me misfired."

"It did? That's strange, the Norinco products are usually rather reliable… may I interest you in a Hi-power, or maybe a Makarov instead? Nice and compact." Ebina flipped up the bed to reveal a hidden compartment, which opened up to show firearms neatly stacked up like cord wood. She strolled over to the cupboard and flung it open as well, all sorts of pistols and rifles arranged on display. It was any firearm enthusiast's dream, but to her it was just business as usual.

"I don't know anything about guns, Hina. I just use them." Miura groaned exasperatedly. "Something reliable will do."

"Eh? Now that I think of it, I received a call from Hikitani-kun this morning… he placed an order for a new one. Maybe it's for you? A gift, maybe?"

"I'm not sure how to feel about that." The blonde said. "A firearm as a gift? Ugh, that's just weird…"

"Aww, I think its really sweet." Ebina made a low whistle, nudging her friend slightly. "You lucky girl, you! Anyways, here. The Makarov, also known as the PM. Watch for the heavy trigger pull on the first shot. Free of charge only because your old piece malfunctioned… give it back to me so I can take a look at it. "

A tiny pistol was thrust into Miura's waiting hand, its diminutive size not really casting the best first impression on her. She tested its weight and grip, inspecting it and ensuring the safety was on. Ebina inspected her old, malfunctioning pistol, a curious eye scanning the weapon's internals.

"Its… really small. Are you sure this thing isn't a toy?" The teenager asked, making sure there was no magazine attached as she pulled the slide back, checking the chamber to make sure the weapon was empty.

"You dare question me, the Great Ebina? I am insulted." Ebina said in mock horror, a scandalized look on her face. "Besides, think of it as a temporary replacement until you receive your new one from Hikitani."

"Fine." The tiny pistolet was pocketed in a holster under her suit, hidden away until it was needed. She also accepted three full magazines, making sure they were snug and secure as she put them away.

"Anything else you might need, your Majesty?"

Miura ignored her teasing, instead scrolling through her phone for Hiratsuka's message. "Yeah, a package… serial number M10-SE. Whatever that means."

"Em-One-Zero-Ess-Eee. Hang on…" The fujoshi rummaged through her inventory before pulling out a small, dusty briefcase with the exact serial identification code hastily written on a piece of tape stuck to it. She tore it off nonchalantly, the case opening with a loud click. Within lay a submachine-gun, complete with three magazines and what appeared to be a suppressor. "Alright, here we go~."

"MAC-10. Small size, extremely high rate of fire. Usually fires 9x19mm, but this one looks a little modified... ahh, so that's it. The E stands for Experimental. This is some high-tech stuff disguised as low-tech... This isn't one of mine." Ebina explained professionally. She double-checked the weapon before cycling the weapon's bolt with a satisfying clack, muzzle aimed at the roof as she tested the iron-sights. Following that, the bespectacled girl looked over the suppressor before attaching it onto the weapon, testing its new weight. "I'm not even going to ask what the boss wants you to do with this."

"She just asked me to pick it up. I don't even know what I'll be doing with it."

After a short briefing on how to use it properly, the weapon was disassembled and put back neatly into its disguised carrying case. Ebina handed the case over with a smirk, satisfied. "Remember, this isn't a damn charity- it's on loan and you're borrowing it. Don't have too much fun with that- I expect it back in one piece. Well, undamaged. You know what I mean."

"I'll try not to." Miura answered, satisfied. "I still have one more package I need to pick up."

"Oh? And what might that be?"

"Heroin." Miura answered with a straight face. Ebina blinked in confusion, as if the trying to comprehend what she'd just heard.

"Uh, Yumi-chan, don't you know? The Hiratsuka-kai are duty-bound to get rid of all hard drugs like that, it keeps the cities clean. Only grass is allowed, I think. Don't tell me you're trying to start on that shit, and even if you are, what kind of establishment do you think I'm running here?"

"You sell guns."

The short-haired girl ignored that little comment, launching into her own personal tirade. "As a friend, I am honor-bound to stop you from straying down this dark and twisted path! I mean, have you seen what withdrawal does to person's mind? I have, and its just sad. Funny story, actually- last month I-"

"Hina, it's not for me." Miura sighed, resisting the urge to facepalm.

"…It's not?"

"Last month you raided a drug factory with a bunch of the boss' guys, right? Like you were just about to tell me. Well, the boss needs that sample that you retrieved if you still have it, something about planting false evidence or something, I dunno."

"Ah… so that's how it is. Well, I see no problem with that." Ebina laughed and swung the door open cheerfully. "Follow me!"

The blonde rolled her eyes and followed her friend into… the kitchen? "You're keeping the drug sample in your kitchen?"

"Yeah, I'd suppose its the last place they would look if we got raided. Not that that's going to be a problem- Shiromeguri helped me rig the house to blow in an emergency." The girl tapped on her chin as she looked through her ingredients on the counter, humming thoughtfully.

"I'm just going to pretend I didn't hear that." Miura wasn't an expert but she was fairly sure that putting explosives near live ammunition was a blatant disregard of even the most basic of safety protocols.

"Now where did I put it… ah. Here we go." The bespectacled girl held a jar labeled with the word 'Not Flour' and unscrewed the lid, retrieving a small baggie of white powder from within.

"Thanks." She accepted the baggie, carefully stashing it away in her coat pocket and making sure it was closed tightly.

"Careful with that. Factory we got it from says its some sort of experimental variant. You heard of China White? They're calling this one Snow White." Ebina cautioned, her tone warning. "They told me its really potent, even a few grams is enough to knock a fully grown man off his feet. And that's from ingestion alone."

"So I'm holding some sort of super-drug? Doesn't seem like a very good product if it's so dangerous."

"Hell if I know. Apparently the high you get from it is insane, almost deadly to new users." Ebina scoffed, shaking her head. "Just don't use it on yourself. Last thing I want to see is your name in the headlines."

"Duly noted." Well, that was grim. Miura nodded and shook the Arms Dealer's hand firmly, thanking her. "Well, I'll see you around, Hina."

"Yeah, take care. Stay safe out there, Yumi-chan."

On her way out, Miura nodded to both girls still lounging in the living room, one of whom who was seemingly in the middle of a weird monologue.

"You what I'm gonna do, Shiromeguri-senpai? I'm gonna get myself a 1967 Cadillac El Dorado Convertible, Hot Pink! With whaleskin hubcaps and all-leather cow interior, and big brown baby seal eyes for headlights, yeah!" Sagami said enthusiastically, the weapon before her reassembled once more as she switched her attention between her audience and the TV.

"That's nice."

"And I'm gonna drive around in that baby at 115 mph, getting one mile per gallon, sucking down Quarter Pounder Cheese Burgers from McDonald's in the old fashioned Non-biodegradable Styrofoam containers, And when I'm done sucking down those grease ball burgers, I'm gonna wipe my mouth with the City Council flag, and then I'm gonna toss the Styrofoam container right out the side! And there ain't a goddamned thing anybody can do about it- You know why? Because we got the guns, that's why.

"Ara-ara." It was hard to tell if Shiromeguri was actually interested or if the words were flowing right past her ears; her cheerful expression never seemed to falter. Sagami smacked the butt of her weapon on the table for emphasis, fully immersed in her inane rant.

Miura simply sighed, and bid the two girls goodbye. She had a gut feeling that she'd be seeing them again soon, but put it aside for now. Now she had bigger problems to prepare for.

[8]

Pulling up to the big boss' house was tantamount to entering the Lion's den. Hiratsuka lived in a literal mansion, towering white walls and glass doors greeted whoever dared to tread upon these sacred grounds. Miura downshifted, the vehicle rumbling as it parked into the driveway. She made her way across the footpath, eying the wide variety of flowers that shrouded the path with a sweet fragrance. With the spare keycard she'd received she unlocked the gate and made her way inside, waiting outside the front door.

The teenager groaned internally, checking her watch. Keep it together, she reminded herself. Just treat Totsuka to dinner and then bring him home, nothing more, nothing less. Piece of cake. This entire charade was just literally just so someone could keep an eye on the androgynous boy while Hiratsuka was out of town for some personal business. Still, she knew for a fact if Totsuka returned with so much as a scratch, Hiratsuka would have her head on a silver platter.

"Is that you, Yumiko-san? Please, come in! Make yourself at home." The femminine boy's voice echoed over the intercom as she approached the main entrance, the door's electronic lock disengaging with a soft beep. Top of the line equipment, she noted. Reinforced door. For a moment she wondered why Totsuka was so important to the crimeboss, but put it aside. Curiosity killed the cat, after all. Totsuka was a good friend to both Miura and Hachiman, though everyone always assumed he was a girl because of his androgynous appearance. It didn't help that he preferred to wear gender-neutral clothing in class like the gym uniform he often sported.

As she entered, Miura eyed the various sculptures and modern art pieces around the living room, snorting as she did. The boss liked to live extravagantly, it seemed. She briefly considered treating herself to a drink from the impressive indoor bar, but the thought was cut short as Totsuka appeared… clad in his casual clothes which were rather girly, to be honest. The teenage boy was dressed in short trousers and a loose-fitting top, which clearly seemed to emphasize his long, hairless legs and hid the manlier contours of his shoulders. In other words, anyone looking would probably think he was a girl at first glance.

"...Hello, Totsuka. Aren't you cold, dressed like that?" Miura asked, slightly exasperated.

"Hmm? Not really. Why?" His innocent reply came with a cute finger on his chin.

"Nevermind. Let's get going. I'll lend you my coat if you get cold."

"Gee, Yumiko-san. It's almost as if you're the guy here." Totsuka teased, a small smile on his face. "Please take care of me."

"Funny, I was just thinking the exact same thing."

[8]

"Ah, make a left here! Alright, park in there."

As the car rumbled to a stop in the dimly lit parking lot, Miura found herself sighing for the umpteenth time today. The pair made their way to the moderately crowded restaurant, a greeter already coming forward to assist them.

"Really, Totsuka? You wanna eat dinner here?"

"D-don't judge. I like the, um, atmosphere. Yeah."

"It's a maid cafe." True enough, the moment the words left her mouth, a frilly-looking maid bowed to them, a radiant smile on her youthful features.

"Welcome, Master and Mistress!" The maid said happily to the two, before humming in confusion. Her eyes traveled up and down Miura's body, who she had addressed as 'Master', then did the same to Totsuka, who she had called 'Mistress'. "U-um. Eh? Or is it Mistress and Master?"

It was easy to mistake Miura for a guy with the dim light, her large coat and crisp black suit projecting an aura of intimidation, not to mention she was slightly taller that Totsuka. The only thing that highlighted that she was a girl was her long blonde hair and feminine face, the latter of which was beginning to twist into a scowl of displeasure. Totsuka shifted uncomfortably; despite how he looked and dressed, he didn't much like being referred to as a female.

"Just get me a table for two."

"Yes Master! I-I-I mean Mistress! Coming right up!" The maid quickly led them to a vacant table, scurrying away as soon as they sat down. Totsuka giggled at her reaction, leaning back into his chair. Miura watched the girl go, taking off her heavy coat and putting it aside. "You don't have to be so fierce all the time, Yumiko-san. Just relax a bit!"

"I'm not fierce. This is my natural state of mind." Miura said through grit teeth as she began to browse through the menu. "And I can't afford to relax since Sensei specifically requested me to take care of you. If anything happens to even a single hair on your head, I'll be in deep-"

"Uh-uh-uh. No cursing or swearing today. It's bad for a girl to have habits like that."

A blonde eyebrow raised high into the girl's forehead. "Yes, I suppose you would know that very well."

"So what do you think of this place? Aren't the uniforms cute?"

"Cute? Yeah, I guess. To be honest, I've never really eaten at one of these." The blonde eyed a nearby maid feeding a nearby customer on the opposite table, cooing lovingly as if the teenage boy was her baby. "Remind me why we're here again?"

Another, different maid approached them before the androgynous boy could reply, her twin-tails swaying slightly as she moved.

"Hi, I'm Mika. What can I get you?"

"Let's see… steak, steak, steak." Miura leafed through the menu, humming with thought. "Garlic Saikoro Steak. Yeah, I'll have that. And a Vanilla Coke."

"What about you, miss?" The maid glanced in Totsuka's direction, awaiting his order.

The young boy seemed to sigh, before regaining his composure and not bothering to correct that she had just misgendered him. "I'll have the… Meido Burger, and… a five-dollar shake."

"Would you like one of our Maids to hand feed-"

"No thank you!" Totsuka said quickly, a bright red blush blooming on his cheeks. Huh, it really made him look like a maiden when he did that, Miura thought to herself. Currently, she was more interested in what he'd just ordered.

"Did you just order a five-dollar shake?"

"Mmm-hmm." The boy answered, his blush now receding. "What about it?"

"That's a shake? That's milk and ice-cream? And it costs five bucks-" The blonde frowned, trying to remember the last time she had one of those. She turned to the maid waitress, her tone questioning. "You don't put bourbon in it or nothing?"

"We don't serve alcohol here, sir." Miura felt her eye twitch ever so slightly. The maid nodded, then tapped on her notepad. "I'll be right back with your drinks."

They watched her go, the short, frilly shirt swaying slightly and accentuating the girl's nice legs and hips. Miura shot Totsuka a deadpan look, her fingers drumming across the table surface rhythmically. They were left with nothing but an empty table and an awkward silence, neither of them sure of what to say to the other.

A few minutes passed and they were still in that awkward state of silence, Miura occasionally running her fingers over the tiny Makarov as if to make sure it was still there, while Totsuka had started to squirm in his seat uncomfortably.

"Don't you hate that?" Totsuka started, eyes full of youthful innocence.

"Hate what?"

"Uncomfortable silences." Totsuka tapped his fingers against his face thoughtfully. "Why do we find it necessary to yak about unnecessary stuff in order to be comfortable?"

Miura blinked, attempting to come up with an answer but found none in her repertoire of witty comebacks. "I don't know. That's a good question."

"That's when you know you found somebody really special." The boy replied, leaning back into his chair. "When you can just shut up for a minute and comfortably share silence. Like you and Hachiman."

"Hikio, huh. Let me guess, he told you about this place?"

"Well, um, it's nice here, right?" Totsuka tried, laughing nervously. "Hachiman took me here once. It was fun."

"Did he now." Miura noted the boy used his first name instead of his last. She'd have to keep an eye on Hikio. It would be horrifying if it turned out he swung the other way.

"Yeah! He mentioned you, actually." A sudden curveball from Totsuka threw her off her game, causing Miura to lose focus just for a second just as the maid arrived with the drinks they ordered. "I think he really appreciates you."

"I-I see." She sipped at her vanilla coke, savoring its sweet taste. Miura surveyed the young boy curiously, a stray thought popping up in her head. "Wait. Why are we talking about him again?"

"Eh? I thought you'd like to talk about him. Y'know, since you like him and all."

The teenage killer stopped mid-sip, before shurgging. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I think you two are a pretty good match! Why don't you try asking him out-"

"Out of the question."

"So you do like him-"

"We're just good friends." Miura stated quickly, her face stony like it was carved out of marble.

"No no no, you and I are just good friends." Totsuka rebutted. "There's something between you two."

Their conversation was interrupted by the waiter returning with their main courses, succulent meat fresh from the grill laid bare before them. The pair began to dig in, Totsuka still attempting to talk with in between bites.

"I mean, I tried to convince Hachiman to ask you out, subtly of course-"

Miura nearly choked on her steak, coughing and sputtering. "You what?!"

"-but he's just too dense to get a hint. That's why I thought maybe you should instead…" Totsuka continued, munching on his burger happily.

"Totsuka, look-" She began to search for the words, then gave up. "Look. I don't think I'm ready for a relationship with anyone now, to be honest. Especially in my line of work."

"You're not? I-I see. I won't bring it up again." The boy leaned in a little closer, concerned and slightly apologetic. "My mistake. Yumiko-san, you and Hachiman are both precious friends of mine, so I'll respect your decision."

Miura blinked owlishly, slightly confused. That was… easier than she'd expected. Maybe Totsuka really was as innocent as he looked. "So this whole plan was just to get us talking about Hikio?"

"Um, partially. Yumiko-san, can you keep a secret?" Totsuka whispered conspiratorially, his eyes suddenly shifty and nervous.

"Shoot."

The boy leaned in, his voice low and quiet. "I really like maid outfits."

Miura eyebrows shot up into her hairline. "You meant you like girls wearing maid outfits, right?"

"Errrr-" Totsuka eyed a nearby maid warily, appreciating the interesting design.

"Nevermind, don't answer that." She snorted derisively, taking note of the maid outfit's short skirt and revealing blouse. "There's no way in hell I would wear one of those."

Totsuka giggled, a demure hand to his mouth. "I'm sure Hachiman would very much like it on you."

For a split second she imagined herself in a maid outfit in front of Hikio, before completely dismissing that thought with burning cheeks and a wave of her hand. "Enough about me. Tell me about yourself- what exactly do you do for Hiratsuka-sensei?"

The question seemed to catch the young man by surprise, causing him to pause mid-slurp. "Me? Well, usually my role is to, er, as quoted by Sensei, 'stand there and look cute'."

"So she's treating you like a walking ornament. Why am I not surprised." Miura deadpanned, taking a big bite of steak.

"And we, uh, cuddle sometimes." Totsuka said shyly, a faint dusting of red beginning to form on his cheeks.

That was new. The teenager leaned in closer, her emerald eyes questioning. "Hm. You and her? You two are- I mean, I'd heard the rumors that you were her boytoy, but, whew."

"N-n-n-not like that! She doesn't do anything lewd or explicit, just… holds me when she's sleeping sometimes. Like a big plush toy." Totsuka flushed bright red, hands up in denial. "B-but its all right! She's not treating me like an object. I think she just needs companionship sometimes."

Wow. Miura didn't know if that was pathetic, horrifying or adorable. Perhaps a mix of all three, then. Somebody just marry that woman already, seriously. She waited for the boy to go on, watching as he took a deep breath to calm himself.

"Please don't fault her, Yumiko-san. She's been alone for so long-" Totsuka took another breath and steeled himself. "I owe a lot to her. Ever since my parents moved out of the city she gave me a home, put clothes on my back, helped pay my school fees. I know she's not a very good person but she's doing her best."

Miura wanted to bring up the tiny detail that his parents probably moved out because of the increasing fear of the Yakuza by the public, which Hiratsuka was partly responsible for via her turf-wars with the other factions when she cleansed the entire city of undesirables, but decided to hold her tongue. He probably knew that already.

"Totsuka, you do realize that Hiratsuka, and her people, and by extension, me-" The girl huffed, then took another bite of her perfectly seared steak. Delicious. "You know we're all dangerous, right?"

"I know that you're my friend. Hachiman and the others, too." Totsuka nodded confidently while he sipped at his beverage. "But I don't need a lecture from you, Yumiko-san. I understand you guys are bad people. But deep down, you're good at heart. That goes double for Sensei."

"Yes, that's the general consensus, isn't it?" Miura's knife made its way through her steak, metal sawing through meat. "I know you admire her but… look. We're not white knights or heroes. She has to make decisions, Totsuka."

The boy didn't reply, taking a big bite of his burger to fill the silence.

"I mean, she tries to set bad people on other bad people, but at the end of the day she's still the boss of Chiba's underworld." Miura made sure to say that last part as softly as possible, her green eyes scanning for any potential eavesdroppers. "I'm not badmouthing Sensei, far from it, in fact. She has my upmost respect for actually managing to clean up this Godforsaken city. I'm just trying to make you understand that you shouldn't get too close. To her. And us. You're just a normal guy and I don't want you getting hurt or caught up in our messes."

Totsuka nodded, through his usual cute smile was replaced by a worrying frown. "Yumiko-san-"

"Everything she does is basically a delicate decision: let me give you an example. Over here we've got scumbags inside the city," Miura raised her left hand as if she was holding something, waving it slightly. "-and over here you've got scumbags outside the city." She raised her right hand this time and waved it too, pantomiming a weighing scale with her arms.

"Uh-huh?" The pair took a moment to pick at their respective meals, chewing slowly.

"Me and my colleagues? We're the fucking pivot. Keeps things in order." The teenager finished, clapping her hands together. "What I'm trying to say is; you can admire her all you want, but there's no need to put her on a pedestal."

"I thought we agreed there'd be no cussing or swearing today." The platinum blonde groaned, rubbing his temples. "But I get your point, Yumiko-san. Don't fly too close to the sun."

"I never agreed with your terms Totsuka, I was just being nice. And That's an apt way to put it, though I never did read into that Greek myth bullshit. Too melodramatic, if you ask me. Real life isn't that dramatic." Miura grunted, gulping down the last of her steak. "C'mon, let's get going. The faster I get you home the safer you'll be."

"You're just trying to get rid of me, aren't you?" Totsuka laughed coyly, finishing up his milkshake with a loud slurp. "You're incorrigible, Yumiko-san."

"No, I'm just trying to protect you. Bad things happen to people related to our line of work." With a wave of her hand she called a maid-waitress over, pulling out her wallet.

[8]

The drive back to Hiratsuka's home was rather uneventful, Miura's red 1964 Chevelle Malibu crunching on gravel as it parked in the driveway. The white walls were imposing as ever, still looking as though they were judging whoever dared enter.

"Yo Totsuka, let me use your washroom for a minute."

"Sure. It's down the hall and to the left." Totsuka yawned, eyelids already heavy with sleep. He was wearing Miura's heavy coat, regretting dressed so lightly on such a cold night. It didn't quite fit him, the long sleeves shrouding his slim arms entirely like a cloak. "I'll be watching TV if you need me."

The girl nodded before making her way into the inner depths of the spacious house. Totsuka yawned a second time, plopping down onto the cushy sofa… and right onto Miura's coat pocket by pure coincidence. There was a small pomf as something within burst, alerting the drowsy boy that he'd broken something.

"Eh? What was…" Totsuka began fishing around for whatever had caused the disturbance, his fingers grasping a small bag of powder. It was beautiful, whiter than freshly driven snow… so fine that it could slip through his fingers like silk. "Is this… starch? For the coat?"

The poor, innocent boy was struck by disaster when he stuck his nose close to the bag to take a cautionary sniff… and he sneezed when tiny, ultra-fine particles irritated his delicate senses. His explosive breath blasted into the bag, and with no other openings except up, the full volume of the white powder slammed into his face like a truck.

"Wha!" The powder was all over his face- he had managed to close his eyes in time, but a considerable amount had gone into his mouth… and up his nostrils. Totsuka gasped, coughing and spitting most of what had gone into his mouth, but in return had taken several deep breaths by pure reflex, forcing the drug further into his system.

"This is-"

Almost instantly, the room began to spin, colors and shapes blending together into a nightmare kaleidoscope of movement. He began to feel this strange sense of euphoria and ecstasy, the drug already starting to invade his bloodstream and subsequently his brain. Each breath he took only made things worse, sending the strange powder deeper up his nose. Even in that horrific high, Totsuka understood what was happening to him, his legs shaking and hands trembling. He'd never seen it happen, but he'd read about it. So this was what a high, no, an overdose felt like, a weirdly calm part of his mind whispered.

Nonononono. This can't be happening.

"Yumi…ko…-san… Hachi…man." Totsuka's legs gave out and he felt himself hit the floor, the fluffy carpet rubbing up against his face. At some point his nose had begun to bleed, he could feel the warmth stream down his face and onto his cold, sweaty chest. With his remaining strength, he reached a trembling hand up to his lips, and it came away with a bubbly mix of red and white. Blood and Foam.

"Sen…sei…"

[8]

Miura stared the enormous mirror in the bathroom, grimacing. The girl in the glass stared right back, eyes fierce and dangerous. Was that how she looked like to others? Or had she just subconsciously adjusted her own behavior to fit her line of work? To be honest, she wasn't even sure where the girl began and where the hitwoman ended. It was like the world had gone crazy and now kids were running around with guns, fighting gang wars.

"Look at you, Yumiko Miura." She groaned at herself, the immaculate suit fitting her perfectly and emphasizing her curves. Only that stupid coat made her look bigger that she actually was. "The best years of your life and you're spending it killing people."

She thought about what Totsuka had said, the words echoing in her mind hauntingly. Still, she really wasn't ready for a relationship especially with such a volatile job. She thought about Hikio, her idiot partner. At first, she had hated his guts but they slowly became friends over the course of their partnership. But now maybe she wanted something more. She wasn't sure of herself, or of anything, for that matter. Why had she even joined in the first place… money, power, hunger? Or perhaps she had just seen which way the wind was blowing reacted accordingly.

The schoolgirl sighed explosively, sweeping her blonde locks back. "Keep it together, Miura. Stay fuckin' frosty."

With a flick of her wrist, she checked the expensive wristwatch. It was thirty minutes after midnight, way past her previous bedtime. Not that it mattered now- she lived alone in Chiba while her family was safe in another faraway city. It was better this way.

Casually, Miura made her way back to the living room, calling for Totsuka as she went. "Totsuka? I'm going home now. See you again when school starts in-"

The words that she were about to say died on her lips as she rounded the corner to see the dimunitive boy sprawled on the ground… with a small, translucent baggie beside him. She immediately raced over to his side, flipping him over onto his back. Glazed, unfocused eyes stared back at her, a thin stream of bright crimson sliding down his lips, and onto his chin where it mixed with yellowish-white foam. The Snow White was all over his face, and there was some even in his hair. With a quick wipe from her hand she got most of it off, cursing.

"Oh my God. Oh my fucking- You-" The blonde started to panic, already starting to check for his heartbeat and pulse. Totsuka was still breathing... if you could call it that. His breaths came out in agonizing, ragged gasps, like a fish out of water. Miura recognized what had happened, having seen it happen before firsthand. An overdose. More foam dribbled from his mouth as his empty eyes stared right past her face, past the bone-white ceiling, past the wispy clouds, and into the night sky above where stars twinkled with a faded glow.

"Oh, Fuck. Fuck, Fuck, FUCK!" Miura picked up the boy in a fireman carry, fear fueling her every action as she kicked the front door open. She shoved his limp body into her car, jumping in a moment later and twisting the keys while she floored the accelerator. Rubber screeched against asphalt as the car raced into the night, their destination already set.

"Don't fucking die on me, Totsuka!"

With one hand on the wheel Miura fished out her smartphone, fumbling with it as she thumbed desperately for Ebina's contact. The vehicle drifted as she made a hard right and popped the clutch, engine wailing as the gears and transmission struggled to compensate from the sudden abuse. Miura pressed down on the contact 'Ebina's House' with shaky hands, bringing the device up to her ear instantly.

"Answer." She spat, almost as if hoping that saying the words would magically make them come true. The cheery ringtone seemed to chime on for an eternity, musical tinkling filling her ears with irritating noise as she looked between the empty midnight road and her friend slumped over in the passenger seat.

"Fuck! Hina, answer!"

[8]

Ebina Hina was enjoying herself, snug and cosy in her poofy pajamas and relaxing on her enormous bed as she read through one of her favorite BL light novels on her laptop. The bespectacled girl giggled to herself as she pushed her glasses up in anticipation, reveling in her smut. Just as she was getting to the good part, the phone in the living room began to ring incessantly, disrupting her concentration.

She opted to ignore it, expecting whoever was calling to just give up eventually… but the ringing kept going on and on, quickly waking up Shiromeguri, who was sleeping on the living room couch since they didn't have an extra room in the house. Ebina could hear her groan tiredly, followed by a loud sniff. Shiromeguri often took a long time to start moving if she was awakened abruptly, so there was no way she was going to answer that.

A moment later and Sagami started to complain from her own room, having gone to bed much earlier. She didn't take too well to her sleep being interrupted, her shrill voice echoing through the house.

"Ebina! The Goddamn phone's ringing!"

"I can hear it." The Arms Dealer called back, sighing and getting up from her spot. BL would have to wait, it seems.

"I thought you told those fucking assholes never to call here this late!" She was probably referring to Hiratsuka's grunts working under them but right now she didn't really care. If they were calling this late they'd better have a damn good reason.

"Yeah, I told them!" Ebina coughed and patted Shiromeguri on the back, who was still staring at the phone sleepily. "And that is exactly what I'm going to tell this fucking asshole right now."

She picked up the phone with a practiced wave of her hand, bringing the receiver close to her ear… "Hello~"

"Hina! It's me!"

…and immediately pulling it away and wincing as Miura's telltale voice shouted over the phone.

"I'm in big fucking trouble, girl. I'm coming to your house."

"Whoa whoa whoa, hold your horses." Ebina frowned, paying much more attention now. "What's the problem?"

Miura's voice screamed through the tiny electronic speaker, drawing an interested blink from Shiromeguri. "I've got this guy, he's fucking overdosing on me!"

"Wha?! Why don't you bring him to Doc Kamiki-" She started, only to get cut off instantly.

"Doc's out of town with Hiratsuka on her peacetalk thing!"

"Fuck. What about Hikitani-"

"He's on leave for the holidays, out of town until school starts!"

"Okay, just-"

"He's fucking dying on me!"

"Okay! Just bite the bullet, take him to the hospital, and call a lawyer. It's just some random guy, he's expendable." Ebina suggested, which was met by an instant refusal.

"Negative. It's the Prince!"

The fujoshi facepalmed, a long, low whine escaping her lips. "Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck." What had she done to deserve this?

Ebina wracked her brains on where she left the first aid kit, her mind starting to race with all sorts of negative outcomes. "Alright, are you on a mobile phone? Get your ass-"

Whatever she was to say was cut short as the screech of tires resounded outside the house like a banshee in the night. The girl marched out just in time to see Miura's red Malibu scream its way across her freshly-cut lawn, ramming into her garage door with a tremendous crash.

"What the hell was that?!" Sagami screeched from her bedroom, which Ebina promptly ignored as she stalked angrily towards the absolute disaster on her front yard.

"Have you lost your fucking mind?!"

[8]

Miura groaned painfully as she pulled herself up, one hand latching onto Totsuka's shirt as she began to drag him out of the vehicle and onto Ebina's lawn. The owner of said lawn was making her way towards them, starting to yell something at her.

"Have you lost your fucking mind?!" Ebina raged, anger clear on her features. "What the hell were you thinking, giving such a lightweight guy something of that potency? You were talking about drug shit on the phone! You crashed your car into my house!"

"Ebina, help me out. And I didn't give him a damn thing, he somehow got himself-" The blonde dragged him by the arms, leaving his legs trailing on the wet grass.

"-he somehow got himself like that?! Am I supposed to believe that magically happened?! Bloody unbelievable. Of all the people we know it had to be him-" Ebina wasted no time in grabbing the boy's legs, and together they hauled his limp body up as they moved him past the front door and into the living room. Shiromeguri was still there, though she seemed half-asleep and drowsy, watching the scene unfold with heavy-lidded eyes.

"Ebina! What the fuck's going on out here?" Sagami flung open her bedroom door to see Totsuka's unconscious body on their living room carpet, with Miura and Ebina leaning over and inspecting him. "What the- Isn't that Totsuka-kun from class? Sobu High's Prince?"

"Go to the fridge, and get the thing with the adrenaline shot." Ebina commanded, slamming the front door shut to prevent any nosy neighbors.

"What's wrong with him?"

"He's overdosing!" Miura answered, panic in her tone.

"Get him the hell outta here!"

"Get the shot!" Ebina and Miura roared in unison, causing Sagami to snarl angrily.

"Fuck you! Fuck you too!" Nevertheless, the redhead began to make her way towards the kitchen, grumbling to herself.

"What a fuckin' bitch." The blonde spat to no one in particular, busy wiping down the unconscious boy and making sure he wasn't drowning in his own foam or something.

"Just keep talking to him, alright?" Ebina got up, heading to one of the storage rooms. "While she's getting the shot, I'm gonna get my little black medical book."

"What the fuck you need a medical book for?"

"What do you want me to do?" Ebina whirled to face her, exasperated. "I've never had to give an adrenaline shot before."

"You've never given an adrenaline shot?!" Miura howled angrily, her arms spread out in disbelief. The situation was rapidly escalating out of control by the second. None of them were trained in first aid, and with Doc Kamiki out of town, she was left with the only option to take Totsuka here in the hopes that Ebina could fix him. It seemed as though her fears were realized as Ebina began shouting right back.

"I'm a fucking Arms Dealer; I sell things that kill people. I don't fucking bring them back to life! I'm not a Goddamn Doctor!"

"Get the shot!"

"I am, if you'll let me!"

"I'm not stopping you!"

"Stop talking to me, start talking to him!"

"Get the shot!"

Shiromeguri watched the entire back-and-forth exchange happening before her without a single word, her head swiveling back and forth between the two girls like a referee at a tennis match. She blinked slowly, starting to focus on the limp body of the boy on the living room carpet. He looked somewhat familiar...

"Hurry up Hina, we're losing him!" Miura yelled down the hall, which only served to drive the other girl into a bigger panic.

"I'm looking as fast as I can!"

"What's she looking for?" Sagami asked, the adrenaline shot retrieved and ready in her hand. She handed it over to Miura and made her way towards the thunderous crashing Ebina was creating as she dug through piles of discarded magazines and empty ammo boxes in search of the book.

"I don't know, some book." Miura answered, still checking on Totsuka.

"What are you looking for?"

"A little black medical book." Several thumps and bangs, followed by a loud curse as the teenager struck against something painfully.

"What are you looking for?"

"A little black fucking medical book! It's like a-a-a textbook that they give to nurses." Ebina said exasperatedly. More thumping, followed by the sound of metal scraping on metal.

"I never saw no medical book."

"Trust me, I have one." Spent ammo casings rolled across the hardwood floor as Ebina carelessly tossed one of her storage boxes away while searching.

"If it's so important, why don't you keep it with the shot?" Sagami questioned, peering through the doorway.

"I don't know! Stop bothering me!" Ebina barked, evidently reaching the end of her patience.

"Listen," The redhead hissed, an accusing finger pointing in Totsuka's direction. "While you're looking, that boy's gonna die on our carpet. You're never going to find anything in this mess!"

"Sagami, I'm gonna fucking kill you if you don't shut up-" "Hina, GET IN HERE!"

"-Fuck out of my way." The bespectacled girl pushed past her roommate and into the living room, ignoring her insult as she did. This was definitely not how she had wanted to spend her night.

Miura and Ebina leaned over the still-limp Totsuka, the blonde shoving the adrenaline kit into her friend's arms. "Quit fucking around and give him the shot. Come on!"

"Okay." Ebina huffed, ripping the packaging open and wiping the sweat off her forehead in one continuous motion. "While I'm doing this, you take off his shirt and find his heart."

The schoolgirl did as she was told, ripping open the boy's loose t-shirt open with her bare hands and exposing his cold, clammy chest. "It's gotta be exact?"

"Yes it's gotta be exact, we're giving him a shot to the heart, so I guess it's gotta be fucking exact!"

"Well I don't know where exactly where his heart is-" Miura leaned over his body and put her ear close to his chest, before quickly retreating and pointing to a single spot. "I think it's right here."

"That's it." Sagami confirmed in the background, tying on her sleep robe of all things.

"That's it? All right, what I need is a big, fat magic marker."

The redhead blinked as though she didn't hear her, still confused. Miura looked back, her tone impatient. "You got it?"

"What?" Sagami asked incredulously.

"A magic marker. A-a felt pen! A fucking black magic marker!" The blonde yelled, having reached the limit of her patience. "God!"

While they were arguing Ebina had readied the syringe and had it punch through the tiny bottle of adrenaline, draining its contents. She finished filling the syringe to the appropriate amount, a small pop manifesting as she pulled the instrument free, fat drops of transparent adrenaline sliding down the metal needle.

"Come on, Hina. Hurry up!"

"Fuck! Okay, okay." She was tapping on the glass gently and eyeballing the massive needle, as if to make sure that the chemical inside had settled. "Okay. I think its ready."

"Hurry up!"

"Here, I'll tell you what to do." Ebina held the syringe out for Miura to receive, who recoiled from it as if she had been presented with a live snake.

"Nononono girl, I ain't- you you- you're gonna give him the shot." She argued, which the brunette instantly countered.

"No, you're gonna give her the shot."

"I ain't giving him the shot." The blonde pushed the medical instrument away, but had it roughly shoved backed into her hands.

"I ain't giving him the shot!"

"I've never done this before-" Miura protested, but was cut short by the other girl.

"Well, I've never done this before either! And I'm not starting now." Ebina hissed, pushing the syringe into her friend's reluctant hands. "Look, you bought him here, that means you're gonna give him the shot! The day that I bring an overdosing boy into your house, then I give him the shot."

"Fine. Give it to me." Miura said through clenched teeth, grumbling. Sagami returned and produced a red magic marker from her hand, which the blonde snatched away with a quick swipe. "Gimme that." With the marker, she drew a large circle on the approximate spot on Totsuka's chest where she thought his heart would be, praying to her lucky stars that she was right on the dot. "All right, tell me what to do."

"Okay, uh, so you're giving him an injection of adrenaline straight to his heart." Ebina explained, sweat beading across her brow. "But he's got a-a breastplate- you've got to pierce through that."

She began thumping on the boy's chest with her fingers for emphasis, the sound of her fingers rapping against his chest almost ominous in the now-quiet living room. "So, what you gotta do is- you gotta bring the needle down, in a stabbing motion."

The bespectacled girl then pantomimed stabbing the limp teenager, performing three repetitive strikes with her imaginary syringe to demonstrate the correct technique.

"I gotta- I gotta stab him three times?" Miura asked nervously, unsure.

"No you don't gotta fucking stab him three times, you just have to stab him once-" Ebina's voice was starting to take on a hysterical edge, clearly stressed from the ridiculous situation. "-but it's gotta be hard enough to get through his breastplate and into his heart. And then once you do that you p-press down on the plunger."

"Okay, then what happens?"

There was a moment of silence as Ebina opened her mouth- then latched it shut just as fast like she seemed to eat her words. "Kinda curious about that myself."

"This isn't a fucking joke, Ebina!" Miura cried, getting desperate. "I mean, am I gonna kill him-"

"No, no, no, he's just supposed to come out of it like-" She snapped her fingers loudly. "-that."

Somewhere along the line Shiromeguri had woken up slightly more and was now peering over their shoulders in apparent curiosity, blinking slowly as she watched them argue over a nearly-dead guy. The boy's identity was so close… it was on the tip of her tongue now.

"All right, count to three." Miura requested, earning a nod from Ebina.

"Ready? One."

The room went dead silent as everyone watched the blonde lift her hand high up into the air, the long needle glinting in the light like a dagger. Ebina exhaled, her mind already calculating the arc of Miura's swing and preparing to stop her if she was about to miss.

"Two."

A single drop of adrenaline leaked from the needle, splashing onto the carpet. Sagami licked her lips in nervous anticipation. Shiromeguri tilted her head and looked between all three girls, then at the boy. Miura took a deep breath, her hand twitching slightly as her eyes focused at the red marking on Totsuka's chest. There was only one shot at this- she couldn't afford to miss.

"Three!"

Miura brought the syringe down onto Totsuka's chest with a fleshy thump, the medical tool discharging its entire payload into his heart as it punched right through his breastplate. The teenage boy's eyes snapped open and he gasped like a drowning man, dragged back into the land of the living.

"AAAAAAUUUUUUUUUGGGGGHHHH!" Totsuka screamed incoherently as he trashed around, the four girls recoiling from him to give him some room. He eventually slammed back-first into Ebina's sofa, loud, choking gasps emanating from his parched mouth as wild eyes locked onto the massive needle still sticking out of his chest. Trembling hands reached up and prepared to pull it out, but thought better of it as he looked around the room to see four girls staring back at him in wonder and worry. He looked at them, then at the needle, shivering slightly as he let out a small hiccup. The girls slowly edged their way closer to him, each with varying reactions but all of them glad that he was now clearly alive instead of being stuck in a perpetual state of limbo.

"…If you're all right, then say something." Ebina tried, not daring to approach the boy for fear of scaring him.

It took a few moments for Totsuka to respond as he looked at each of their faces with tired, bloodshot eyes. "Something." he choked, voice unsteady.

Shiromeguri blinked, then slowly began to smile. "Oh, it's Sai-chan! I knew I recognized that face~ How've you been?"

"Oooooh." Miura collapsed in relief, head in her hands. "Oh, thank God."

"You owe me big time, Yumi-chan." Ebina groaned, doing the same. Her pajama top was drenched with sweat, giving the attire a slightly see-through appearance. "I'll get you for this."

And that was how Totsuka Saika woke up surrounded by four beautiful girls, shirtless and with a needle stuck deep into his chest.

[8]

The drive back was slow and quiet, just like the gloomy night that shrouded the road leading to Hiratsuka's mansion. Neither Totsuka nor Miura said a single thing, opting to stay silent as they appreciated how closely Totsuka had come close to biting the dust. This time, it really did feel as though the humongous white walls were judging her as she pulled up into the driveway for the third time. The disheveled boy stumbled unsteadily into his house, his skin still pale and clammy. Miura quickly supported him and helped him to the living room, gently guiding him down onto the couch.

"You're gonna be okay?"

"..." The platinum blonde boy blinked groggily, then nodded. "Yeah. I just need some rest."

Miura scratched her head nervously, still feeling massively guilty about the entire incident. Technically it was her fault for not securing the stupid baggie properly... at least she still had a little bit of it left over for its original purpose of sabotage. She looked over Totsuka again with a careful eye, just making sure he was alright. He was white as a sheet, still trembling slightly and shivering, but ultimately alive.

"I'm sorry-"

"I-it wasn't your fault-" Totsuka began, before letting out a small sneeze. He was clad in one of Ebina's spare t-shirts, depicting two typical bishonen males much too close to each other.

"No. It was." Miura shook her head. "This was exactly what I was talking about. I'm a bad person, and people related to our line of work get hurt... And because of my stupidity, you got- I just- gah!

She took a deep breath to recompose herself, then started anew. "What's your thoughts on... how to handle this?"

"What's yours?"

Miura thought for a moment, then decided to lay it out straight. "Well, I'm in the opinion that if Sensei lived her whole life, she doesn't need to know nothing about this incident."

"Pfffft." The boy let out a small giggle, which made her shoot a worried but incredulous look at him, wondering if he was still suffering from any lingering effects.

"Wha- what's so funny?" The blonde huffed, still angry with herself. "You nearly died, Totsuka!"

"Nothing, it's just that-" Totsuka smiled weakly. "If Sensei knew about this incident, I'd be in as much trouble as you."

"I seriously doubt that."

Totsuka hummed, then his eyes lit up with a sort of understanding. "I can keep a secret if you can."

"Shake on it?"

The two reached out and shook hands, Miura feeling exactly how cold and sweaty his palm had become. A pang of guilt struck deep into her heart.

"You don't need to be sorry, Yumiko-san. If anything, I should be thanking you." The boy coughed, before giving her a look full of gratitude. "You saved my life."

"I caused your life to be in danger in the first place. It was the only natural thing to do."

"I guess we're even then."

The pair shared an awkward silence before bursting into small, silent chuckles, basking in the complete and utter weirdness of the situation they found themselves in.

"I'll see you around, Yumiko-san." Totsuka cut her off with a wave of her hand before she could respond, a teasing smirk on his face. "Thank you for taking care of me this evening."

"You're welcome. Evidently I didn't do a very good job, seeing as you nearly died. Are you sure you're gonna be okay, Totsuka?" Miura groaned, a hand on her forehead.

"I'll be fine, really." Totsuka eyed his own shirt with a raised eyebrow, before dismissing it entirely. "Don't worry- I won't say a word of what happened."

"I... appreciate it, thanks. If Sensei knew... I'd be a red stain on the ground. Well if there's anything you need, just call me." The blonde sighed, nodding. "Now, If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go home and have a heart attack."

Miura turned and started to make her way back to the car, dragging her feet groggily as she did. It'd been a hell of a day and all she wanted to do now was go home and catch up on some beauty sleep. God knows she needs it.

"Yumiko-san."

She looked back to Totsuka, worry creasing her features. "Yeah?"

"You're a good person, Yumiko-san... and I hope you'll find your happiness with Hachiman." Totsuka smiled, waving gently to say goodbye. "Drive safely."

The blonde returned a tired smile, giving him a little wave of her own. "Mmm. You take care now, Totsuka."

With that, the Malibu rumbled to life and raced into the night, the girl behind the wheel sighing in relief. Thank God that everything had turned out alright in the end... she made a mental note to be more careful in the future. Perhaps she'd been careless the other day too, when the weapon misfired and killed someone who they weren't meant to dispose of. Oh well. Things happen, and its only logical that one would have to learn from their mistakes as they progressed in life.

She just hoped she wasn't making her biggest one yet.

Omake 1: Shiromeguri's Safehouse

Shiromeguri Meguri wasn't really feeling very cheerful right now, a huge contrast to her usual carefree and happy-go-lucky attitude. Her youthful brown eyes narrowed to thin slits as she watched the storage warehouse that she'd called her home for nearly two years get consumed by the roaring, hungry flames. The docks were aflame with chaos as six men took cover behind an SUV, probably the perpetrators that had set the place alight in the first place. Across them were three of Hiratsuka's men, pinned down by heavy automatic fire that the enemy gangsters were sending their way. The power grid had somehow been damaged, the area completely dark except the illumination of brilliant flames and gunfire.

The schoolgirl revved the throttle of her motorcycle, making her way closer to the battle between the two groups. One of the friendly men seemed to recognize her, waving for her to keep her head down. She quickly got off the bike and sprinted over to their position behind a thick concrete barrier, bullets pinging off it like bits of hail. Her helmet was put aside for now as she began planning on how to deal with the intruders.

"Shiromeguri-sama! I'm sorry, they caught us by surprise-" One of them began, only for the girl to cut them off.

"Save it. Just tell me what the hell happened." She growled, putting her backpack down as she reached for something within.

"These jokers showed up in that SUV and rammed past the security gate- when we got here they'd already set fire to the inside of the warehouse with molotovs."

"How many?"

"Six of them as far as we can tell, Ma'am."

"Mmm. Then at least there'll be some left alive." Shiromeguri pulled out a strange, cylindrical tube and slung a bandolier holding a set of egg-shaped canisters across her sizeable chest. The tube split open and the girl inserted one of the canisters into it, a quick motion of her wrist flicking the weapon shut with a sharp clack. Without a word she began angling the tube upwards, a look of deep thought on her face.

One of her underlings scooted closer, pulling out a red emergency flaregun. "You need a flare?"

Across the small battlefield, they could hear the enemy taunting, laughing and cursing their name. "Screw you, Hiratsuka Dog! We burn warehouse to the ground!"

"No," She answered, almost stoically. "He's close. He's real close."

Shiromeguri made minute adjustments and tiny shifts as she gauged the enemy position and the arc of her Grenade Launcher, using the mental snapshot she'd taken earlier when she'd first seen them and their angry shouts for reference. They were what, somewhere between a hundred or two hundred meters away? The barrel of her weapon aimed just a little higher to compensate for the projectile's arc.

"Fuck you! Bastards, Fuck-"

She depressed the trigger and the Thumper spat out the 40mm round with a loud Phtoonk. There was a few, scant seconds of silence as the projectile sailed through the air.

"-you! We're go-" Whatever the men were trying to say next was cut short as a high-explosive round landed in their midst, turning their taunts into pained screams mid-sentence that echoed through the docks. The firing stopped, and one of the underlings peeked out to check before giving the all-clear signal. The girl emerged from her bullet-riddled cover calmly, already picking up another 40mm round from her bandolier.

Shiromeguri examined the round in her hand, double-checking it to make sure it wasn't the same one she used before. This one was a buckshot round, designed for close-range engagements. With a practiced ease, she emptied the chamber and slotted the new round in, humming in satisfaction as she inspected the carnage she caused. Upon reaching the impact site, she let out a long, low whistle. Out of the six men that had been firing at them, three had been killed in the explosion. One of the bodies had its midsection blown apart, the torso and waist twisted in opposite directions. Nasty.

Her three underlings flanked around her, aiming their weapons at the remaining survivors. One of them was clearly unconscious and relatively unscathed, the other two moving but out of action from their wounds. The first started to reach for a nearby pistol, only to have his hand stomped on by Shiromeguri's heavy boot while she aimed her weapon at the other survivor. The other wounded man backed away, his hands up in the air as he pleaded for his life. She didn't blame him for his fear- she was an imposing sight as the light from the flames both illuminated and masked her face, smoking weapon in her grip.

"I-I surrender."

She turned to weapon away, now having the barrel aimed squarely at the first man's face. "What about you?"

"Go to Hell, bitch." He spat, blood already starting to pool from his wounds. His tattooed arm clawed weakly at her leg, too drained to pry her heel off his hand.

"You first." With a pull of the trigger, the man's head simply disappeared as the buckshot round ripped right through it, scattering what was once flesh into the four winds. A red stain was the only thing left of his head as the body twitched, stilled and began to cool. She felt a few splotches of blood land on her face, most of it pooling around her boots.

The second survivor whimpered and backed away even further only for Shriomeguri to advance on him, the barrel of her weapon whipping across his face and breaking his nose when metal met cartilage. He collapsed with a pained cry, the underlings moving in to hoist him up.

"What should we do, Ma'am?" One of them asked, referring to the two survivors.

The girl huffed, then pointed to him in particular. "You stay here and coordinate with the other team I'll be calling to salvage what we can from the fire. Firefighters should arrive any minute now, so get the bodies out of here. Put them somewhere else, then search them later. Cloak the bloodstains with the SUV or something, you guys figure it out."

"You two. Bring them back to Intelligence." Shiromeguri turned to the other two underlings, who listened with rapt attention. She sneered at the surviving gangsters, her nose turned upward in derision. Her helmet found its way back onto her head, tightening the straps as she flipped her reflective visor down. "Find out where they came from. And bring me back anything... useful. If any of them gives you trouble, kill them. We only need one alive to talk."

After a few phone calls, the chopper roared to life as Shiromeguri kicked it into gear, the motorbike rumbling onto the highway as she began to plan her new destination. A little later and a trio of Fire Engines sped past her on the other lane, headed towards the warehouse. She sighed internally, hoping that the boys would be able to clean up that mess in time. To top it all off, she now needed a new place to stay. Hmmm... she wondered if she could crash with Ebina. That'd be nice.

[8]

"Shiromeguri-san, please don't come in with your boots bloody like that. You'll ruin my carpet!"

"Don't worry, it's not my blood."

"That doesn't have to do with anything!"

Omake 2: Sagami's Sadism

Sagami hummed a cheery little tune, safe from the scorching afternoon heat as she twirled a straight razor in one hand, her smartphone in the other.

"Mmm-hmm. Yeah. The Da-Nang Boys. A Vietnamese Gang, from the looks of it. Newcomers out for fame." The redhead answered, nodding to herself. "That's all I could get out of him- poor bastard speaks horrendous Japanese."

"Nggh- p-please..." The man whimpered, his face bruised and bloody. Tiny cuts decorated his legs and arms, each varying in depth and width. More worrying was the black eye and ugly purple blotches that had bloomed across his body. Any normal person that looked at his fingers and toes at that moment would have lost their breakfast.

"Hmmm? As you wish, Sensei. Bye." Sagami hung up, sliding the phone back into her pocket. "Well old friend, it's been fun."

"No, please! I tell you everything!" He begged, the chair he was tied to shaking as he struggled against his bonds but to no avail. "Please!"

"I'll be sad to see you go... I know! How about a song to say farewell?" The schoolgirl brought out her phone once more and placed it onto a nearby desk, scrolling through her playlist until she found a song she liked. "Ah, here we go. This one's a classic."

The familiar twang of a guitar started playing, followed by the rhythmic beat of drums. The sound echoed through the empty warehouse as Sagami increased the volume, a wide smile decorating her girlish features. Then, to the man's complete and utter horror, she started to dance.

[AN: watch?v=DohRa9lsx0Q]

The teenaged girl did a slight shuffle, looking rather snappy in her dress shirt and black pants as her feet slid across the dusty floor with a beat that matched the song. Even worse, she started to sing.

"Well, I don't know why I came here tonight~

I got the feeling that something ain't right~

I'm so scared in case I fall off my chair-"

"I-I-I don't want to die!" The man began to shake, his fear starting to overwhelm him as pure, unadulterated horror coursed through his veins like ice. "Stop!"

Sagami ignored his pleas, clearly enjoying herself as she twisted and moved with the rhythm. The straight razor in her hand gleamed menacingly with a flurry of movement.

"And I'm wondering how I'll get down those stairs~

Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right- Here I am, stuck in the middle with you~"

She whipped the blade up with a sudden flick of her wrist, the metal carving a deep gouge into the man's face. The poor man screamed, feeling a sudden numbness in the area, followed by a lancing, red-hot spike of pain.

"Hold still, handsome." Sagami leaned in close, her malicious smile ear-to-ear now. She gripped the side of his head and- what happened next was better left undescribed as the man began to scream even louder, sounding like a dying pig as the girl began to cut deeper into him, reveling in her sadism. The song continued to play in the background, punctuated with the man's cries of pain. When she pulled away, her hand was bloody and held a strange, oblong piece of flesh... the man's severed ear. "Was that as good for you as it was for me?"

"AHHHHHHGGGGHHHHHH!"

The schoolgirl gazed at the uneven lump with an almost proud expression, turning back to her toy with a satisfied smirk. She then brought the severed ear to her mouth, talking into it like a phone's receiver. "Hey, what's going on? You hear that? Heheheh."

"AHHHHH! AGGGGGHHHH!"

She tossed it away, laughing and now beginning to eye the man's battered chest, or more specifically, the tattoo on his chest depicting a Dragon encircling a moon.

"That's a nice design you have there..." Sagami's face curled into a sadistic grin, licking her lips in hungry anticipation. She flipped the blade expertly, the weapon slashing across the air with a soft swish. "Give it to me."

Omake 3: Ebina's Escape

Ebina Hina was surprisingly cheery for a teenage girl sharing a stuffy old elevator with a bunch of four older men armed to the teeth. The gave her a little distance, many of them out of respect. She whispered a little song in tune with the elevator music, her musical voice making some of the underlings glance at each other with nervousness.

"If I could save time in a bottle~ the first thing that I'd like to doooooo~ "

"Erm. Ebina-sama." One younger, newbie underling piped up, much to the horror of the older veterans. Though, they were glad that they didn't have to endure any more singing, even if she did sing rather well. This mission was making everyone nervous... especially since they were basically meeting an opposing gang.

"Yes?" She tilted back to face him slightly with a mild expression.

"With all due respect, how can you be so calm?"

"That's the thing- I'm not. I'm just making it look like I'm calm. Helps with negotiations." Ebina hummed again, patting on her holstered pistol. "Relax, dude. It's a classic negotiation. Worst comes to worst we end in a standoff."

"B-but the older veterans told me that assignments with you nearly always end in a standoff." The three veteran grunts groaned at that, one even facepalming. They were so going to give the newbie a talking-to after this.

"Did they now." A vein pulsed in the young girl's forehead before it seemed to disappear completely, replaced by a sweet and radiant smile. The veterans shivered when they saw that horrific sight, backing away into the small corners of the cramped elevator. "Well, we are a rival gang. Things like that happen all the time."

The elevator doors slid open with a loud ding. Ebina clapped her hands, while the newbie gulped and tightened his grip around his shotgun.

"Let's do this. Just relax, newbie. Don't shoot anybody unless I tell you to."

She strode into the factory like she owned the place, ignoring the many strange looks that she got. Truth be told, they were a strange sight- a young woman dressed in a crisp, neat dark suit flanked by four armed men wielding rifles and shotguns. Ebina smiled as she approached the main area, where a slick looking man was waiting at a table backed by a small garrison of his own bodyguards.

"Well, look at this, boys. Hiratsuka sends one of her freaks instead of showing up in person." The man sneered, inadvertently displaying his yellowing teeth. He sipped at his red wine, swirling the liquid around in his glass. "What does that tell us about the Hiratsuka-kai?"

Some of the bodyguards behind him snickered, much to the dislike of Ebina's own bodyguards. She made a small, discreet motion for them not to respond in any way, keeping them in check. "It's nice to see you again too, Asaka-san."

"Pleasure's all mine, brat. Now, what do you want?" He took a swig of his wine as she made her way closer, opting to sit opposite him.

"It has come to our to our attention-" Ebina swept a hand around the factory, prompting some of Asaka's bodyguards to tighten their grips around their weapons. Her own men did the same in response, jaws clenched with tension. "-that you're operating this drug factory, of all things, on our territory. Why is that? You know what the Hiratsuka-kai's policy on hard drugs is."

"That's what this is about? Hah! Well why didn't you say so?" The slimy gangster chuckled darkly, motioning one of the men behind him to come over. "In that case, I'm sure that this will settle things..."

The bodyguard brought up a large briefcase and emptied its contents onto the table, fat stacks of cash creating a small mountain between the two negotiators. Asaka leered at the younger girl, his eyes shining with menace as he chucked over a small baggie. Ebina snatched it out of the air with a single hand, gazing at it curiously. "The money I understand, but this is?"

"A sample of our newest drug. An improvement on the China White formula; even a small amount is able to give a grown man the most amazing high, just from ingesting it. Schnee Weiss. The bane of new users." Asaka took a deep breath, seemingly proud of his own work. "Snow White."

"Are you trying to bribe me, Asaka-san?" Ebina asked coyly, pocketing the baggie away for future use. She got a feeling the boss would have a use for it in the future.

"I dunno, you tell me." The greasy man leaned back, satisfied. "Go back to your master and tell her your 'negotiation' went just fine, lapdog."

A few more snickers from the armed men behind him. Ebina's expression didn't change a single bit as she hummed thoughtfully, a dainty hand on her cheek. It seemed nobody had noticed that her right hand had been under the table ever since the meeting started.

"I dunno." She mimicked, the corners of her mouth starting to curl upwards. "I dunno. Maybe I'm just not making myself clear."

She picked up a stack of cash and slapped it on the table, then dipped her gloved fingers into his glass of red wine, giving them a quick sniff. Asaka frowned, clearly not expecting the blatant disrespect that she'd just shown him.

"I don't wanna fuck with you, Asaka-san." Ebina's voice took on a sickeningly sweet tone, saccharine to the core. "But we've got the connections, we've got the sales organization-" The teenager leaned in a little closer, a dark smirk on her features. "-we've got the muscle to shove enough of this factory so far up your stupid, wop ass that you'll shit snow for a year."

The older man snarled, his face twisted with rage. "Blow this bitch's head off-"

The moment the words barely even left his mouth, Ebina's bodyguards cocked their weapons with threatening clacks and aimed squarely for his head, his own bodyguards doing the same almost simultaneously to her. Each side had at least four loaded weapons pointed in their direction, a classic Mexican standoff when neither side refused to back off.

"Oooooh. Guns, guns, guns!" Ebina laughed, looking very much like an ordinary schoolgirl for that single, fleeting moment. "Come on, Asaka-san! My favorite anime's airing-" She drummed the fingers of her left hand on the table cheerfully. "-tonight! I never miss an episode."

Before the older man could retort, there was the sound of glass shattering as small canisters sailed though the windows, white clouds of gas trailing in their wake. A loud, electronically amplified voice boomed from outside the building.

"This is the Police! Give it up, we have the building surrounded! There's nowhere to run!"

For a single, tense moment the two factions just stared blankly at each other. The girl responded first, her tone incredulous and accusing.

"A fucking sting op? This was a setup!" Ebina growled, glaring at Asaka's shocked expression.

"What?! No, I-"

The main factory doors burst open as Japanese SWAT teams infiltrated the building, yelling out declarations and threats. Asaka's bodyguards turned around and opened fire... leaving him wide open and unprotected. Ebina sized her chance, a manic grin appearing as she flicked the safety off the handgun she had under the table for the entire meeting- which she had aimed at the older man's groin.

"Gotcha, you greasy bastard." She pulled the trigger thrice and three suppressed rounds punched into Asaka's unmentionables, eliciting a high-pitched scream of pain from the gangster.

"Yo, newbie!"

"Y-yes, Ebina-sama?"

"Now you can shoot him." In all the chaos and confusion no one noticed as Asaka collapsed when the shotgun slug punched straight through his face, his bodyguards too undisciplined and only caring for their own lives as they fired away wildly at the cops below. Ironically, they were slowing the cops down and acting as a distraction. Right before they reached the back exit, Ebina and her team turned back and gunned down remaining survivors of Asaka's bodyguard team, ensuring that none of them lived to talk about the meeting. The factory workers might have seen her, but they were all illegal immigrants so that should throw the cops off quite a bit. Ebina and her men piled into the getaway vehicle, the young girl laughing manically as they made their escape in the nondescript van with the huge stacks of cash cradled in their arms as a special bonus. The Police never suspected a single thing as the van slipped past their checkpoint via a hidden route she had planned beforehand. Suckers.

She quietly neglected to mention that she was the one who had leaked the factory's location to the police in the first place. Why do something when you can get someone else to do it for you, and for free? The girl chuckled to herself, patting the newbie on the back while the others sighed with relief. With a quick flourish of her hand she took off the suit jacket and tie to reveal a normal blouse under it, changing her look to resemble a perfectly normal teenager.

"Good shooting, new guy. Now, let's all go get some ice-cream to celebrate."

And so, later that morning they were the subjects of quite a few stares and whispers as the public witnessed four muscular grown men enjoying some ice-cream with a teenage girl in the park, the odd group laughing amongst themselves with great cheer.

Thank you for reading. Sorry I didn't update, I just had massive writer's block regarding this fic so I stopped for awhile. It's inexcusable, really. Again, sorry.

Plagarism- I mean, references ahoy! See if you can spot the references, cuz I ain't gonna list them out no more. See ya around for the next chapter, I guess.