Death in the Family (OPEN)

A short exhale of breathe in the form of a contemptuous laugh filled the silence left by her quavering words.

"'Old friend', huh? Not a single lie?" He bore his teeth slightly, without looking away, his hand glided over the table with the key disappearing underneath his grasp and into a pocket beneath his midnight robes. With a deliberate air of authority, he rose from his chair in a manner that might liken him to an Executioner rising to the occasion of exacting a sentence of capital punishment.

"You could have told them the truth. It's an understandable situation to have broached on such a sensitive subject as the death of a family member." His eyes flared almost imperceptibly on the mention of those last five words, and then paused.

"The blood on your-" He stopped himself a word away from accusation, "Well, we will talk about that curiosity shortly now won't we?" He left her at the table as he walked towards the room they would be soon occupying. He pulled out a small roll of paper from within his cloak, and put it to his lips, while in the other hand a short burst of flame expelled itself from his thumb and ignited the roll. The light from the brief fire illuminated his face and reflected in his eyes, as he moved like a shade upwards into the Inn.


The key entered the door with ease, and with a short jostling it opened forth, revealing the tiny abodes containing a bed, a dresser, a window, and not much else. His entire body filled the empty space of the door frame, and he did not turn to face the child behind him.

"Here are the rules," He spoke softly, having that sort of lulling sympathy she might have found in him in the market after hearing her story. "You will answer my questions to my satisfaction. If you have the urge to kill me, tell me first, and I will arrange a time and a place. No need for me to turn this Inn into ash with everyone along with it... it would not be the first time." Though she would not be able to see it, his eyes reflected a burning fire he had seen a thousand times in his waking nightmares, conveying all of the deep emotion he bottle away inside to detach himself from what he had done.

"Think you can manage that." He spoke the question as if it was a declarative statement, and then entered the room. He walked over to the dresser, and leaned back against the wall next to it, staring at the bed while he smoked.

Yami wanted more than anything to get out of that hotel, to run from that city and never go back. She trusted this man, despite Kokuo's nagging that she shouldn't. This man had his own pain to hide, she knew. Maybe if she could talk to him and explain her situation, he would let her go peacefully. Yami wished she had enough money to bribe him, but everything she had was gone now. There wasn't anything to give this man that was of value, no way to get him to keep the secret that she would likely end up telling him.

At first, Yami found herself to be slightly confused. The man claimed that she was lying when she said that they were old friends. While they may not have technically been friends, she had met the man before, though it had been a long time. She couldn't remember his name, but she did know exactly where she had seen him. She wasn't lying. Maybe he was? Or had he just forgotten her?

Yami listened patently as the man described the situation and how things were going to work. Though she couldn't see him, she could sense something inside of him, something filled with rage. He was angry, and this was beginning to frighten Yami again. But who was she really afraid of, the man, or herself?

Yami locked the door once they were both in the room, leaning against it so she could hear if anyone were on the other side eavesdropping. This would be a long conversation, she knew. But she also knew that if she didn't talk to the man, he would either tell the local authorities to arrest her or he could very well try to kill her himself. Yami didn't want it to come to that. She knew that this man was strong, and if pushed too hard, Yami wouldn't be able to hold Kokuo back any longer. Kokuo was thirsty for blood, and she would undoubtedly kill the man.

Yami realized that she had no choice but to listen to his questions and answer as truthfully as possible. Yami took a deep breath. "Okay. I'll answer your questions. You have my word that every answer will be truthful." Yami closed her eyes, wanting it all to be over. This man seemed to be full of hatred and anger. Yami couldn't think of why. The last time she met him, he smiled and was kind to her. What had happened since then?

As with most conversations Riniri had been engaged in with this girl so far, there was a short pause. A momentary lapse in conversation that allowed him to collect his swirling thoughts. He could read her state of emotions, and could admire her self-control. He could admire her trust in him. That, he would take note of in his final judgement.

That was a long ways away.

"My name is Riniri Kateta... do you know who I am, girl - what is your name? Do you know what I do, and why I am here?" It was only polite to start with the basics. Despite having spoken to her several times in the past hour, he had never caught her name. Yet he felt more personally connected to her than some people he used to know, despite having no recognition of her identity.

He planned to explain to her just exactly why he was here, highlighting why they were so at odds. To add gravity to a situation he did not believe she truly understood. If there was anything he could do with this girl, it would be to correct her, before inevitably ending her life... whether through the rule of law in some cell, or through the force of his palm against her skull.

How long between now and when one of those two judgements came, depended entirely upon his pity for her. There were two options available to him, one resulted in a youth no longer having a future... and one, which just might have a chance.