Kirito sat in one of his offices. It was a bit late at night, a time when the world of crime came alive, as if it was aware of its evil and sought to hide its shameful activities in the dark and curling smoke. The office had a clear view of his hopeful next conquest, Wakayama castle. This was a quiet seaport, the sort of town that only just managed not to lose too many children to Osaka year after year. The Kumicho picked up one of the town's major exports, a mandarin orange, spinning the ball slowly in his grip, watching the low light bounce off of its pits. He had summoned Kaoru to him because it was time yet again to take care of things that were not oft talked of in the business, of people who had become obsolete and dangerous. He was on "vacation", scouting out his empire in this town squarely within his foothold of power, so his entourage had to follow him to contact. All this e-mail, and phone-call, and video transfer... it wasn't reliable, there was too much counterfeit. A face-to-face meeting was best. One could find deceit in one's counterpoint. He tossed up and caught the orange, then placed it back in its cornucopia. The basket sat on a low table in the traditionally decorated room. Kirito was closely guarded. He knew every part of the room. It was time.
Kaoru, a paladin of assassinations, allowed himself to make his way across the lobby floor that shimmered slightly from the fresh bit of wax that had coated its surface merely an hour ago. He moved at his leisure, pulling his pack of cigarettes out from his breast pocket. The man at the front desk, ‘security’ watched him and would have asked for identification of some sort before he thought better than to question the man wearing all black. Reaching up to push his braids from over his shoulder, he parted his lips to take the cigarette and hold it as he stuffed the pack back into his pocket. He hadn’t been having the best of luck with anything since the incident with the Kumicho of the Goto-gumi though had some hopes that by seeing his own Kumicho that things would start looking up again. Stopping at the wall the elevators occupied, Kaoru hit the button to go up and waited for a moment or two before one of the doors opened to let him inside. With his cat-like grace, he entered the first elevator and hit the button to the sixth floor. Aphotic eyes stared out, watching the silver doors close before he reached into the pocket of his pants to pull out his lighter. What was there to do in an elevator aside from smoke? The assassin inhaled, bringing the tip of the cigarette to a brilliant orange color before it dimmed to a black-ash as he blew bluish-grey smoke into the air. Keeping the cigarette in place with his fingers, palm of his hand pressed to his chin, he watched the numbers until the doors opened and stepped off the elevator onto the sixth floor. Kaoru made his way down the hall before he stopped in front of Kirito’s office door where the guards stood on either side. The larger guard moved in front of him, patting him down for his weapons though it was rather pointless since Kaoru could use a paperclip as a weapon to kill with. After locating the pistol and magazines on him, he removed them from his holster and would more than likely return them to him at a later time. Once the weapons were removed, the larger of the two guards opened the office door and lead Kaoru inside with the second guard behind the assassin. Inside of the office, Kaoru took in his surroundings, as it was a habit of his before looking to Kirito and removing the hat from his head. He held it to his chest, bowing his head slightly. “Yes, Kirito-sama?”
With careful calculation, Kirito gauged his guest, scanning every detail of the man. The clothes were overly sumptuous, the face heavily made up not in war paint, but "high" society, the hair woven into god-awful corn rowed braids. He was yet another denzien afflicted with the decadent disease of modern life. But according to his information, he was also a very capable assassin... at most times. "Welcome, Niikura, please take a seat. " Kirito began the litany of expected pleasantries for a formal meeting, no heart behind his words of properness and false care. However, tradition was tradition, and meet to uphold, so as was expected of him, he spoke. Once the formalities were done away with, although the formal tone certainly still in place, he reached for the dossier beside him, still staring fixedly forward, eyes never letting a single motion complete its arc without notice. "I see here you failed your last mission."
Remaining silent for a few moments after the man’s accusation, he remembered his most recent mission which had been to sell the guns to the Goto-gumi. “I spoke with Yuuga. He said that his men did not need them since they only did close ‘combat’,” he said, keeping his hat to his chest as he raised his head to look to the Kumicho. Kaoru wasn’t the best errand boy because when it came to errands, he had a tendency to take ‘no’ for an answer. “If you’d like, I could go to Koyasu and see if he would purchase them,” he suggested.
"My predecessor was not savvy concerning assassination; after all, I sit before you after he proved his failure in such matters." This was no secret, and Kirito's voice was calm and level as it moved into stormier matters, glancing down only occasionally to the sheets behind lidded eyes. "The failure to deliver those foreign machines to those savages is of no concern to me, and the result of poor planning. What concerns me is your simple failure, blemishing an otherwise stellar track record. This failure is two fold." Kirito paused looking Kaoru straight in the eye, almond eyes accusatory. "My spies inform me that you accompanied The Goto-gumi Kumicho to their new pub, the..." he glanced down at the sheet, sneering at the nonsensical name, probably based off of some sort of drug like red camel. "Blue squirrel. The injuries you sustained after that are public record." As demonstration, he pulled out a copy of the hospital report from Kaoru's dossier, then let it fall back in. The folder was thick, accordioned on the sides and filling up plump. A man's entire life lay inside. "One thing you may be fatally unaware of, Niikura,” Kirito set the dossier back down to his side in a slow smooth motion, bringing out a tokarev pistol from the undercarriage of the low table he sat at. "Is that for both sides, there are spies everywhere." Four shots rang out and three bodies dropped: two outside the rice-paper door, and one landing prone on the punctured ceiling boards. The blood began to seep in through the ceiling as the sharp-shot Kumicho replaced his revolver. "It is not your fault that you misunderstood your mission. The Goto-gumi have grown too strong. Employing them is like employing a madman. It is inefficient, costly, and results in bad public relations. We are an upstanding business, one which should have nothing to do with those distasteful hooligans. Rising through the ranks, I had always noted your piety to the Yamaguchi-gumi, as your name precedes you, and therefore see fit to share with you the true destination of those guns." He sat silent then, awaiting Kaoru to connect the dots.
The assassins brows furrowed slightly as he discerned what the Kumicho had said, not even batting an eyelash in regards to the fired shots or the blood that dripped down from the ceiling to splatter the floor. He watched the blood, quiet as he thought over what the man had said and simply looked at him. He frowned. It was obvious that the guns were meant for the Goto-gumi but his part… Kaoru blinked before it dawned on him and he felt rather foolish for not having realized it earlier. He had the perfect chance to kill Yuuga that night before he had resorted to going to the hospital. “Forgive me, Kirito-sama,” he said, bowing his head down.
"Does he trust you?" Kirito asked simply.
"From what I can tell, yes," he said but frowned some more as he looked up to him. "He’s angry at the moment since I had almost killed him… though I am sure if I bow down to him and play his game he will forgive me and in turn be back in his ‘good’ graces.”
"I need further details." Kirito meshed his fingers, eyes darting to the side at a gnat. "There are peculiarities of social behavior which influence one's decisions, and although I'll no doubt that he attacked you wantonly with undue malice, his intentions are subject to assessment for your further mission." It was perhaps a bad idea, the worst and first mistake of a leader to reuse a follower who had failed, but in this case, he knew that Yuuga liked to toy with things, and throwing back an old chew toy, as if Kirito did not know he threw it to a rabid pit-bull but rather to a trusted lap-dog, could lull Yuuga into a better situation for his demise.
Kaoru remained silent for a moment before standing properly again. His tongue poked out slightly, licking over the front of his teeth before making a small sound, low in his throat. “We were going to fuck when we were in the back room of his club. I don’t remember all he was saying to me as I was unarming myself but I ended up throwing a shuriken at him and was off by some odd inches.” He cleared his throat as he thought of how he hadn’t intended on killing the man at that point. “I wasn’t trying to kill him. It was more or less a slip-up. He ended up getting … very angry and bashed my head into the wall before saying that he never wanted to see me again or something like that…” He frowned, shifting his stance slightly. Speaking to his Kumicho of his sexual encounters had never been anything he’d ever wanted to speak to the man about before. “Though… as a suggestion to a small bit of information I had picked up, he enjoys it when people come back to him begging for forgiveness….”
Kirito was frankly flabbergasted. "You... threw a shuriken at him." Half statement, half question, all intonation of What The Hell Were You Thinking, Kirito's mouth hung open with absurdly furrowed brows for a quick moment, wondering to himself if he had summoned a functional idiot into his presence. Whomever Kaoru was attracted to was absolutely not among his concerns at that moment compared to not only betraying his hidden armament in a flamboyant and awkward manner, but not actually killing Yuuga through this act of foolishness. If you're going to accidentally throw shuriken, you can at least kill someone with them. Or at least main someone, maiming is perfectly satisfactory, well not for an assassin, but just for shuriken in general; Kaoru should have killed. "Contrary to popular belief seen in film, you don't just accidentally throw shuriken. I'd be angry as well if someone threw shuriken in my presence, no less at myself. That was very foolish of you, and I should shoot you at this very moment. However, he wished to copulate with you, at least briefly." Kirito leant to the side, bringing close to him paper and pen, beginning to write. "This is your new contract, please stow it appropriately." He brought out a stone stamp carved of jade with a turtle on top, pressing the outlines of his assumed name onto the thin sheet. "My mon; the paper is now notarized." He handed the paper over to Kaoru, delivering a glance of a million words. "You will beg for his forgiveness, endure his abuse, and wait for the finest time to kill. Kill only once. There are no attempts. If you fail in an attempt to kill him even once, you know what must be done, for you also know very well that he will kill you soon after, even if you believe no one was aware. You shall take all the time you need to ingratiate yourself, but in concerns to time are to kill promptly. Is this clear?"
Knowing of his grand mistake in throwing the shuriken at the Kumicho in his anger, he was reminded of it and of the possibilities that were worse than simply death. This game that the man wanted him to play was a dangerous game and the look the man gave him made him feel a mix of emotion though most was anger and humiliation toward himself for fucking up so royally. “Perfectly clear, Kirito-sama,” he said softly. Not delivering the guns along with not killing the Kumicho wrung him up to two unforgettable mistakes that normally wouldn’t have been forgiven under any other circumstances from all he had seen happen to those before him.
“Oh… Of course,” he said, tone still soft as he spoke to the man. Snakes were not his things; especially dealing with poisonous ones but wasn’t about to tell the man otherwise. “May I have the address for the Nakama residence?” he asked as he pocketed the envelope the Kumicho had closed up with his own seal.
"Of course." Kirito brought a small address book out of his sleeve, and copied an address onto a separate piece of paper, with a separate note at the bottom. The handwriting of this paper was different from that on the letter he had just handed to Kaoru. "Make sure, as I stipulate here, that those asps are not harmed. My predecessor was a flamboyant fool for using snakes." He may have been able to chat with other Kumicho whom he trusted about his soft spot for animals, but no trace of this was held in his voice as he discussed business with Kaoru. That would be revealing a weakness, of which he publicly held none. He handed forward the second paper.
Kaoru took the second piece of paper and slipped in into the inside of his hat before resting the accessory atop his head. “Are there any other services of mine needed, Kirito-sama?” he asked.
"Please dispose of the bodies,” Kirito made reference to the two guards outside the door and the rapidly spreading pool of blood a few feet away from where he sat. "You know who to contact. I thank you for your response to my summons." Kirito closed their contract curtly but still politely, and waited that Kaoru would show himself out. The assassin was too given to his own drives and fancies. He was entirely too fanciful. But if he got the job done, that would suffice to validate his employ. And that was all that mattered. Kirito stared forward at the changing scene of the door, imagining the day when the country would be honorable once again.