Part II
The biggest issue with the sonic youth is that she doesn't know how to stay still, and that she is way to adept at learning how to plant a daisy, or kill rather. She wasn't invited to the event because I felt she shouldn't see the process of my coronation.
Despite every attempt at hiding any information of or the whereabouts of the ceremony, here is Zza, kicking her little boots and swinging her little fists as she nagged for me to put her down.
I'm afraid to even think about how she made it here.
"When, uh, when did you get here?" I asked her, hoping vehemently that she appeared later than sooner. After the blood was splattered and spilled. I put her down on her feet and fixed the old tattered oversize bomber jacket covering her down to her knees.
"Let's see..." She pondered, resting her right elbow on her left arm and tapping her pink painted finger on her brown and pink lips. "About fifteen minutes before you." The exotic girl responded with closed eyes and a wide grin.
I countered her cheesing expression with a straight face, "Did you really need to think about that, Zza?"
"Well, I was thinking I should lie." She explained as she walked down the steps with high marches and arm swinging, the jacket sleeves sliding over her tiny hands. "I mean, it was crystal clearly obvious that you didn't want me to come. BUUUUUTTTT!" The sonic youth exclaimed, doing a complete one-eighty while balancing with one foot on the middle step. "Trying to lie to Asha is like trying to lie to a hus-."
"Zza." I cut her off before she could finish.
The nine year old's imagination of courtship is just as chromatic as the rest of her chimera, but all too vivid for a for a child so young. Despite the circumstances of our paths crossing, this is an emotion Zza has that I am trying to whittle into a much more mature sense of reasoning. Anything that involves teaching Zza Zeppelin-Dycer is like backing up data in a super computer over and over and over and so on. She forgets virtually nothing, but remembers absolutely everything that she has learned or taught herself. Only the ancestors know the full extent of what she has taught herself.
This nine year old girl is a fucking sponge, and it seems she will never lose the waters she gathers.
Zza did another one footed one-eighty, but parked her enthusiastic stride on the snow covered steps. She gave me her back, the three singed holes burned into the rear of the jacket looked straight at me.
It stills stiffens up my back whenever it rains or snows.
"I know, Boss." The sonic youth responded to the silent scolding.
That there is her pouting tone. It's a lesson that she'll have to accept, but so very adorable on her exotic little frame.
I caught up to Zza and surprised her by sweeping the red brat off her boots, holding her up like a little princess.
"Awwwww! Don't be like that, First Deputy Led." I doted while I carried her down the jade, partly because I'm a little paranoid she'd slip on the powdered ice and split her sponge. Also, after almost three years of partnered livelihood, I know how to cheer my petite Fray Proxy up.
"I'm not a First Deputy anymore, nefarious fiend! I am the Sheriff, the Mayor and the Hangman." She replied while still pouting her round exotic face. The red brat was attempting to feign aggravation, but latched her little arms around my neck tightly. Her puffy cheeks and tiny nose became redder than her skin, and her vibrant wild energy much more bashful.
"Oh, excuse my insolence." I played along, reaching the sidewalk below the The Ragnarok Law Mafia's temple.
Dastardly Dusty and First Dep... Pardon me, Sheriff Mayor Hangman Led. This is the aliases Zza thought up for the very few amount of childish games she does like to play, all of which, however, carry the very possible options of murder or death.
I am always Dastardly Dusty, a play on my first name and the obvious villain. Zza is always First Deputy, a play on her surname and the obvious hero. It seems like her many months of service has been fruitful, becoming the Sheriff, Mayor and Hangman.
The nine year old's favorite role to play is that of the executioner.
I put her back down, but the sixty-three pound vicing latch around my throat didn't unlock right away.
"Asha?" Zza gently recited my name, staring thru my metallic mental windows with her indigo and right into my brain.
"What's up, Led?" I replied with her nickname, looking directly over her brunette locks at the city to disengage eye contact before I was read completely.
"Are you still having those old nightmares?" The prematurely mature girl asked me calmly, the contradicting look on her face is serious with legitimate concern.
"Of course not, Zza. I'm the Űbermensch, remember?" I told her with a wise masking grin and an assuring wink.
"Hmmmmmm?" Zza hummed with an unconvinced curiosity, releasing her clutch off my neck and dropping to her soles.
This little girl's intuition is almost on another level when deducing foreign or unfavorable situations. It's almost sheer luck that she didn't become a blue blood, her potential would make her future against The Law is some kind of worrisome.
That's when I thought about it.
"Zza, did you see the ENTIRE coronation?" I asked the sonic youth.
She looked me in the face again, probably reading my curious expression, "All the way up until you lit your clover stick."
The short smirk she stretched from the left of her lips gave me a slight chill about how the ceremony will affect or teach the nine year old. Her stoic attitude toward blood and battle should be a rewarding delight for The Law, but the energy that she gives off during those mentoring moments were kind of... heavy, somewhat suffocating, experienced even.
Half of that is a responsibility I do have to own.
The other half is a mystery of the past that I've got to solve.
As my thoughts were rolling about Zza, honking from an approaching vehicle brought my reality back to the snow fed city. A jet black Bugatti Chiron pulled up to the sidewalk curb, coming to a high speed halt in front of Zza and I. The deep tinted passenger side window rolled down and revealed a dark brown skinned woman wearing round lens three-eyed sunglasses.
"Ou-Kai'e." I greeted the chocolate shaded woman in the driver seat with a straight face and a half hearted nod.