-Yuki-
They found me when I was fifteen in Akihabara-Tokyo, my school uniform was torn as I'd crumpled behind the back door. Barely breathing and splattered in blood, watching dazedly as my grandfather removed his outer jacket and covered me. Blood forming a pool underneath me as I shivered. Holding tightly on to a gaudy and blunt ornamental sword, primarily black but was littered in plum blossoms.
Later on did I realise that I'd never felt completely calm and at peace, slicing the perverse men that wanted to take advantage of me. I wasn't sure whether it was the aphrodisiac in the incense, but my body burned like I was lit on fire. Unsure but feeling a mixture of fear and embarrassment. That was when I'd learned the most valuable lesson.
I understood the meaning of sorry. There was none, like throwing a bucket down a dark well not knowing that there was no water left. Mother apologised over and over again, did he stop? No. Would she do it again? Impossible.
If I apologised or of those other girls did, for what reason I don't know, would they not have degraded them? No. Something broke... inside me, as it dawned upon me how much I hated those words mother said to me. I wasn't going to be a hypocrite, it was better if they said nothing at all. There was no fear, it was like learning to walk. It was better to listen to nothing.
I was mute for six months after settling into the family, where I lived alongside my great-grandfather in the main house. A large and well maintained mansion in Hokkaido, somewhere in the mountains covered in snow. To fathers disapproval I was taught like the previous descendants of Yin blood, learning the arts of killing: utilising the sword and martial arts.
His wrinkled face and long white hair, a vast contrast to his clear but sharp grey eyes as he looked at me with amusement. I with shock as I was taken to his study by Hayato, unsure as to feel fearful or starstruck. His slender fingers tenderly stroking the back of a large black Jaguar, the sliding windows open revealing the thick snow like a carpet of white. Blurry black figures dancing far away, leaving paw prints in the snow.
Seated stiffly on the tatami mat, my hands on my knees his hoarse voice suddenly asked me. "Yuki why don't you to speak to anyone, are you afraid?"
The large animal rolled its back to look at me and slowly stalked forwards, as I looked away shuffling my hands.
Finding the courage to look up, it's green-grey eyes looked at me innocently with curiosity and suddenly licked my face. As if sensing that I wasn't a danger to it, it rubbed its head against my cold hands as I opened my arms out cautiously. It's large body pressing against me as if wanting a hug, hearing it purr in satisfaction as licked my hair. Enjoying the softness of its furry chest against my face.
"I feel stupid and alone." She replied after a while, tears threatening to fall. The Jaguar growling as if disagreeing with her, making her laugh.
Her grandfather looked at with sad eyes and sat before her his back straighter than bamboo, shooing away the pouting wild cat. He took his aged and callous hands in hers and pulled her towards him. Forcing her head to rest against his lap.
Stroking her head he looked away, hearing the muffled sounds of her cries. "I couldn't just leave you alone there, no matter how you feel. You're probably at an age where any kindness to you is questionable and some of it may be. We're an old family and not everyone will accept you, simply because your a woman. It's been this way for generations, we've never had a female with the gift... You may be discriminated for this even by your father an brother unintentionally. However, your not allowed to cry,that is the nature of the family." He explained to her slow and straightforwardly.
"It will be unfair to you, however under the guidance of me and your grandfather not one will be able to touch you... despite how strong you are Yuki."
In a Yakuza family, surrounded by intimidating and strong men Yuki used the only thing she had to her advantage- her words or lack of them. She'd returned her mothers diary that she'd had in her possession since when she was four. Giving it to her father, she had blamed it on being too young to remember anything. Feigning amnesia for the Habara club incident, wanting to lock away those memories that prevented her from sleeping every night.
Thinking about killing the man who had forcibly named her Yukari Fukushima.
****
Feeling their eyes on her as she slipped out the car, Yuki stretched out her arms and cracked her fingers. Standing horizontally she surveyed the situation calmly, as she saw the two Range Rovers in the distance. The large vehicles locking her inside as they parked near the entrance and exit.
Walking slowly with poise, her back straight and hands by her side squatting before the wheel next to the drivers seat. She pressed her thumb in the narrow, oval indent which lit up the outline with a light blue. Revealing a black hole in the centre of the wheel where the tip of her Katana, the Koiguchi (mouth of the scabbard) could be seen.
Immediately pulling out the one hundred centre-meter, Katana she unhurriedly undid the tightly wrapped Sageo (cord) that tied the garish floral sheath to the blade. Forming a gap with her hands in the thick belt around her waist, she slid and adjusted the Katana so the curve of the blade was close to her body and at the side. Enforcing the sword in place by wrapping the cord around and through the belt, tying it into a single loop.
Walking into the clearing she counted how many of the men had guns, which were three of them-most of them holding aluminium baseball bats and the like. Her face was mostly expressionless as the slight curve of her lips threatened to hook up into a wide smile. Smirking as the men filtered out of their cars surrounding her as she wrapped her hands around her flattened chest. Clearly underestimating her abilities.
One of the men-clearly the leader of the group scrutinised her up close, the buttons of his Hawaiian floral shirt open revealing a muscular tan chest. A couple of bandages stained with dry blood could be seen. Walking up close to her as if to intimidate and question, he held a Glock 34 in his hand which she tilted an eyebrow at. Figuring the effective shooting range was around fifty metres for a hand gun, she looked as he arrogantly waltzed towards her. Wondering how the hell he was going to get close enough to shoot at her, not expecting what she was going to do next.
"Where's Alexandre Auclair... Is he in the car?" A malicious smile on his face as he egged on the rest of his group.
As he was almost face to face towards her, she suddenly moved tilting the position of the Katana forwards so it would be easy to grasp. Making his eyes widen in shock, taking a step back and pivoting to the side.
"What the fuck... is that real?"
"No man- if it was real why would he move out the way... he's just a pussy." The group of men discussed amongst themselves.
"Come on man- I was busy with my girl! If you tell me where he is and give me the keys to your car I'll let you go." The frivolous leader suddenly said with an insincere smile, eyeing up the Rolex on her wrist.
'This guy is full of shit.'
As he was distracted, wiping his sweat from his face with a large hand, she held a tight hand temporarily around the Tsuka (handle) pivoting quickly. Before he could react she elbowed him forcefully in the neck from behind, causing him to grunt in pain as she then incapacitated his right arm.
Twisting it behind his back as he cussed and tried to shove her off with his free hand, to only grab air as she lithely dodged out of the way. Snatching the gun from him she twisted it around her fingers, holding the back of his collar, an appropriate distance from him who was slightly choking. Positioning it to his left ear, so the blood spatter wouldn't get on her clothes.
Before his men could shout at him to get out of the way or grab her with a loud BANG!,the body slumped in front of her. Emptying the magazine of bullets onto the dead body provocatively, before tossing away the emptied gun like an Olympic athlete throwing a shot put ball.
Forgetting about the Katana strapped around her waist, they all surrounded with an attempt to jump her, holding up their metal bats and wooden sticks with attempting to take a swing. They looked at her with crazed eyes in contrast to her who had a kind smile on her lips.
With one hand in a sweeping motion she pulled out her Katana and twisted it around her fingers, alternating her hold on the blade between one hand or two. Slicing with vigour and ruthlessness, almost as if she was dancing she focused on segmenting the limbs of the men's with guns and impaling her Katana.
Precisely the tip of the blade or Kissaki, against their necks spurting blood onto her as the carotid artery split apart like a burst pipe. Unable to hear their begging and desperate screams, as if she was possessed her attacks became more merciless.
The only thing she could hear were the begging and pleas of those girls that would have been the same age as her, had they not begged for her to kill them. Hacking away at their vital points without blinking, pivoting and dodging their attacks with ease. Finishing one of them who had snuck up behind her by launching herself at the man, strangling him with her legs before snapping his neck.
Making a slash in the air to the side, swiping away the blood from the blade. She clicked her teeth as she wiped away the large smear of blood on her face, which was dripping from her bangs into her eyes.
Glancing at the carved up corpses and cleanly cut upper arms like meat being sold at a butchers,
standing in her former position she nodded her head as she walked around inspecting her handy work.
Half of her small white face dripping with blood, as she smiled brightly her pointy teeth like fangs. Like a kid in a candy store her silver eyes gleamed with satisfaction, as the black flame at the back of her eyes burned brightly.
Sliding her blade back into the sheath before sitting down in front of one of the men who's arm she cut off. Blood flowed profusely down his clothes as tears and snot skidded down his face, writhing in pain.
"So Oscar are you going to tell me why you're so eager to go after the Auclairs?" She asked sarcastically, "Or would you like to lose another arm... maybe you don't want to be a man anymore? I can be your first customer if you want."
"Fuck off you transvestite bitch, I would've fucked him before,if not for them druggie bastards."
Startled she lurched forward and grabbed hold of his collar, the ends of her fingers tingling with heat.
"Who the fuck are you talking about?"
Laughing sinisterly knowing she didn't understand or wouldn't know. He sneered at her before saying perversely, "Either one of them will do after all there that sluts sons."
Unable to hear more she punched him repeatedly as he cussed her out. Her eyes bleeding red with murderous intent, the man afraid gurgling with blood as she breathed heavily.
"What the fuck are you?" He said incredulously forcing his weak body to look at frightened.
"A demon who's come to drag you home." She whispered giggling. Unsheathing her blade quickly, as if cutting through butter she watched his decapitated head roll off his shoulders, blood splatter flickering at her like rain.
Unaware of the fact she was being watched by a smartly-dressed man with dyed red hair, shining vibrantly in the moonlight. Amusement in his black eyes as he'd been witness to Yuki's wrath, staring on the blood on her pale cheeks with interest. His subordinate who sat in the back seat of the Bentley, beside him shivering at how his boss was watching her kill his own men as if watching a show. Making an okay signal to the man at the drivers seat who held a long distance rifle in his hand, aiming to take a shot at her.
Feeling that something was wrong she looked darkly at the corpses, trying to figure out if someone was hiding somewhere. Hearing a soft pew sound of a gun and the change in the wind, she flexed the Katana in her hand twisting it quickly her fingers like a windmill. When suddenly a line of sparks moved down the blade, as she made a downward slash, looking coldly at the cut made in narrow bullet.
Using her feet to kick up an abandoned assault rifle as she traded away her blade for the gun, the owners hand which held on to the trigger fell off mid air. Catching it, she boldly stood out in the open and positioned it towards a Bentley that was well hidden in an alleyway, making the person at the passenger seat shiver as he urged the driver to move. Unable to aim straight because of his shaky hands.
'Who said you can go and play me?' She thought before a series of consecutive shots aimed at the guy who'd shot at her repeatedly. Not able to see the wide smile of the red haired man, whose eyes sparkled with excitement.
Just as they were moving forwards at a steady speed, sighing with relief, the man was unable to comprehend what had happened when the glass window of the passenger seat suddenly shattered. The rest of the men flinching as bits of glass, brain and blood splattered all over them. Particularly the driver who cringed with a look of disgust in his eyes, before accelerating quickly.
Throaty laughter echoed in the tense car, the red haired man saying to no one in particular. "Hahaha. That guy looks like a whole lot of fun."