Chapter Text
"Fuck this sucks, at least it's the last time I'll ever have to do it." I sigh as I look at my assistant in the reflection of the mirror in front of me. The small man behind me runs a hand through his hair before looking up from his phone, a stressed expression covering his face.
"I still don't understand why you're killing yourself..." Hiraku grunts as he stands and moves next to me. A supportive hand rests gently on my shoulder as I give him a sincere smile.
"You know exactly why, Raku. Besides, I'm leaving everything in your capable hands." I clasp my hand over his. He's been my only friend and support system for as long as I can remember. He's the one who helped mold my fighting skills and make a name for myself when I had nothing else.
I'm not killing myself because my life sucks. My life is anything but sucky. It's just even with Raku by my side, I still don't feel like I have a reason to stay here on this planet. No family. No other friends. Just Raku and my anonymous employer. I haven't lost a fight in years which has pushed me to become my namesake: The Executioner.
The roar of the crowd outside slightly shakes the room, signaling my departure. My final execution. Hiraku and I lock eyes before he separates and heads for the door. I run my hands quickly over my black tank top and black sweatpants. There's no reason to dress up at this point. I tuck my Beretta 92 into the back of my waistband and slide my obsidian dagger into my pocket, ready to go. As I'm about to step through the now open door, Raku hands me a cigarette.
"The last walk down, gotta make it special." He says with a smirk. Silly as always. He holds out his lighter and helps me light it as we make our way down the all too familiar hallway.
The crowd whoops and hollers as I step through the doorway and into the bright spotlight. My neon green hair glows against my otherwise monotone outfit as I head towards the crude ring I'm in every week. Three souls to dispatch of tonight. The usual "referee" pats the shoulder of the man beside him before stepping out of the ring and standing sideline. As I slide onto the mat to join the man, he runs to the ropes adjacent and begins to loudly plead with the men in the front row.
"Please call this off! I'll do anything! ANYTHING!" He sobs as he screams. It's almost pitiful. I grab his hair from the root and snap my blade out of its protective covering. I toss my cigarette out of the ring with a sadistic grin.
"I am the game and I make the rules, so move on out of here and die like a fool." I spit into his ear and jam my blade into the side of his head at the last word. The crowd goes crazy, all but the men in front of me. They all are dressed way too nice to be in this dingy place. A couple have shit-eating smirks and the others hold frozen, apathetic expressions. Interesting.
I free my blade as I turn away from the professional-looking men and to my next target. A middle-aged woman is pushed past the ropes and onto the mat in front of me. She sobs to herself as she stands, shaking violently. I walk up to her slowly and, to make it quick, slice her throat with my still dripping blade. Her eyes widen and she collapses to the ground. A bored expression crosses my features as I look towards the last one, my final one. To my surprise, this one has some fight left in him.
"Ooo, still trying to prove yourself?" I tease him as he begins to throw uncalculated punches towards me. I dodge them all with ease, another pathetic low life trying to save himself isn't much of a fight. With a quick opening, I slam my head into his face. He yelps and recoils to the mat. I slam one of my military-grade boots onto his right elbow, shattering it beneath my foot. The man screams and the crowd goes wild. The adrenaline starts pumping through my veins at an idea: go out with a bang. Let's make this final one memorable.
As the man writhes in pain and clutches his elbow, I make my way to his other side. A swift kick to his rips quiets him down and leaves an open opportunity. I grab his now free left arm and hold it out slightly parallel to the mat. One, two, three, CRACK. The sickening sound echoes after I stomp his left humerus in half. The man's skin glistens in a thick layer of sweat and I prop him up on his knees rather quickly.
"No fight left in ya? That's a shame." I chuckle into his ear and he begins to sob. I snake my arms around his neck and pat his cheek with a smile. With a quick pull, his neck snaps. His breathing stops and I drop the body onto the mat in front of me. The referee joins me and I turn to him with my hand extended expecting my usual check to drip from his fingers. He quickly throws his hands up in a defensive manner and shakes his head.
"They said they wanted to give it to you personally." His voice cracks as he points back to the row of well-dressed men. I groan as I turn away from him and slip through the ropes. Hiraku jogs up with a cigarette in hand and stands with me before these strange men. I take the lit stick from his fingers and take a long drag as I step up to the shitty barrier.
"So," I start, "you guys are the ones who have been paying me to do this?" I cock my head to the side and look between them all. They all look different, varying styles among them, but they all radiate power. Their auras are almost enticing. A few of them continue to hungrily look me up and down while one holds out a paper check and nods. His blonde hair swishes as he does so. Hiraku places a hand on my shoulder and gestures with his head to leave. I give him a nod and head back towards my usual door. A quick glance over my shoulder tells me more than I need to know, these men even frighten Raku.
I close and lock my "dressing room" door behind me. The wanderers from the crowd have a tendency to sneak back here sometimes and I really don't want to deal with someone walking in on me showering again. I quickly strip down and hop underneath the singular showerhead. The fact that this building had a room with a proper running shower is still incredible and boy do I need it after executions. The dried blood on my skin quickly runs down the drain with the steaming water. My phone goes off from the neighboring counter just as I finish and wrap a towel around myself.
Raku: sorry to leave you hanging, I'll see you at the club. Try and hurry for once
Me: you're a bastard, I'll be there soon
A groan rumbles past my lips as I toss my phone back onto the counter. My eyes catch my reflection again in the mirror and I let them linger. They graze over the plethora of tattoos I collected while having a three-month vacation in the United States with Raku and I can't help my run my fingers over them. Even though I'm not a gang member, I sure do look like one. My arms, stomach, back, legs; they're all almost covered in varying designs. My eyes travel back up to my makeup smudged face and my fingers follow. I really take my reflection in and lightly graze my fingertips over my skin and modifications; matching eyebrow piercings, my septum piercing, the small lotus tattoo by my hairline. I let the towel around me drop and I take in my figure. My hands run over my thick hips, my stretch marks, the different scars from my teenhood and early fighting years.
"Almost time to let it all go." I sigh out and dress into a pair of black high-waisted pants, a matching blazer, and a white cropped tank that's almost too small. I fix my makeup, slide on my boots, and head out.
•••
The music from inside Club Lotus vibrates the sidewalk. A cluster of drunk girls try to hail a cab right in front of the entrance, in my way of course. I shove past them and greet the bouncers at the door.
"Evening, Miss Oshita." They say in unison. I wave to them and head down the stairs.
The thumping of the bass and the flashing lights welcome me home as I pass through the next doorway. The place I've built from the ground up thrives in front of me as I place a lit cigarette in my mouth. My eyes scan the crowd and find Raku near the bar. I approach him with a smile, but he seems anything but calm right now.
"You're finally fucking here!" His voice cracks slightly as his eyes frantically move from me to the crowd close to us. I cock an eyebrow at him and lean on my hip.
"I'm sorry for taking my time on my last day living, shit Raku. What crawled up your ass and died?" I nag at him. His hand reaches out quickly and grips onto my shoulder, a drop of sweat rolls down his forehead.
"Well, I'm the lucky middle man between your hotshot bosses and you." His tone is bordering something I've only heard come out in crazy fights. I stare at him, obviously bewildered, "They're all here for a meeting with you."
"Okay? They can relax for a sec-" I tried to say, but Raku interrupts me with his hand growing tighter.
"They're Bonten executives." His voice is stern and solid. My eyes widen slightly and notice his extended finger. I turn my head to see the same group of men gathered on the couches in the farthest corner of the club. Even though the lights dim, they all stand out in their flashy suits. They're all looking in our direction and I begin to panic. This is not part of the plan.
My favorite song begins to play over the speakers, catching my attention. The DJ gives me a loving look as she starts the playlist I put together. I wanted to go out with a bang, right? I turn back to Raku and give him a nod while pointing up above me.
"To the suite?" He asks with worry. I nod again and begin walking towards the large set of stairs across the room. Hiraku follows behind me, motioning for the executives to follow the two of us. We ascend the steps and stride along the catwalk past the various private party rooms. At the end are two large doors guarded by two more bouncers. My glorious suite and most loyal watchmen greet me kindly while opening the doors.
A huge room with sparkling chandeliers and grand furniture welcomes us. All furnishings and decor match a monotone, greyscale theme that carries into my wardrobe. The farthest wall to the left has three doors leading to my bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen; keeping the living space open and designed with meetings in mind.
"Welcome gentlemen. Please, have a seat." Hiraku speaks in a sickly sweet tone, obviously trying to kiss ass for my late appearance. They all quietly follow in and sit down, some with drinks in hand. I remove my blazer and gun from my waistband, laying them gently on the single couch opposite of the intimidating men. The small bar I keep up here is calling my name at this point.
"You're late." A voice I'm unfamiliar with speaks first. With a sigh, I press the dwindling cherry of my cigarette into my wrist and instead of pouring a glass, I grab an entire whiskey bottle and pop the top.
"I was unaware that I had a meeting. My mistake." My tone is laced with annoyance. I just need to get over this bump in the road and then it's smooth sailing for the rest of the night. I throw my head back and take a few chugs from the bottle before turning around. Eight pairs of eyes lock onto mine as I look between each man. Hiraku gives me a pleading look, gripping his phone so hard that his knuckles are pure white. I casually stroll over to the empty couch and flop onto its delicate surface, bottle in hand.
"Respectable choice in liquor, I like her." An older-looking man in a high neck coat smirks around his cigarette.
"It's disrespectful to keep the king waiting." My eyes dart to the man with soft pink hair and matching scars on the sides of his mouth. The look in his eyes almost dares me to speak against him, maybe one last thrill wouldn't hurt. Before I can speak, though, the blonde in the center lifts a hand to the man beside him.
"Enlighten us, Kazumi." My name coming out of his mouth sends a tingle down my spine, "Is the rumor true?" His emotionless eyes stare a hole straight through me. I raise an eyebrow and throw the bottle back again.
"Rumor?" I wipe the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand and glance at Raku, his eyes not meeting mine. From the red on his face, I can tell he's fucked up. I look back at the blonde and lean towards the group with my elbows on my knees. The man does the same, except he leans his head into his hand.
"That our wonderful executioner is taking herself out tonight, of course. I don't think the sidewalk would like having your guts splattered all over it." A smirk graces his lips and my jaw clenches, "Ahhh, it's true." He leans back and a few of the men chuckle to themselves. My eyes instantly glare at Hiraku and he throws his hands in defense.
"I'm sorry Zumi! They wouldn't take busy as an-" His voice is filled with panic as I drop my head and pinch the bridge of my nose.
"Shut." I stand up slowly and Raku backs away slightly, "The fuck." My grip tightens on the bottle in my hand, "Up Raku!" I hurl the bottle high enough where it collides and shatters on the wall above his head. Their chuckles grow into laughs as I run a hand through my hair and sit back down, "What of it?" My tone is still sharp, fear now coursing through my veins. I'd much rather kill myself than be murdered tonight. The blonde leans his head into his other hand, eyes still locked on me.
"I want to change your mind. More money, better living arrangements, whatever you want. You've fulfilled a job without asking questions. Your loyalty has been noticed as well as your skill and you appear to be a valuable asset. " His expression is giving me nothing. No emotions or signs of what his intentions are.
"I don't need possessions. I have enough-" I try to say, but the man with pink hair cuts me off.
"If you're fucking lonely just say that." He spits out. The smirk on his face makes my skin crawl. I roll my eyes at him and look back at who I'm guessing is the leader of the group.
"I'm only assuming, but if I don't comply in some way, you're going to kill me, right?" I ask with a sigh. A few more chuckles spring from the group and a man with a huge facial scar gestures towards the pink-haired man.
"Mikey won't kill you, but we'll have Sanzu blow your brains out." His tone is utterly serious and only worsens the anxiety growing within my chest. I nod as I take his words in, letting them settle in my mind and the realization hits me. Anxiety? What the fuck? When was the last time I felt...anxious? A giddiness flutters in my stomach at the mere thought of feeling something like this.
Honestly, I can't remember the last time I felt..alive. I haven't lost a fight in over four years. I've been performing flawless executions for a couple of them. I've managed the club for so long that partying isn't even thrilling anymore. The money is flowing and my life is lavish, but it's become incredibly repetitious. There hasn't been anything truly thrilling in such a long time. Maybe all I've needed is a change and maybe this is a way to get that needed change. A click next to my ear pulls me back to the meeting at hand.
"Do you like that idea, sweetheart?" Sanzu's sickening voice jokingly asks with his gun pressed to my temple. I didn't even realize a smile was plumbing at my cheeks. A bead of sweat rolls down my forehead as I look up into Mikey's cold eyes.
"Higher ran-" Once again I'm interrupted, but this time by several of the men laughing hysterically. Even Sanzu is almost doubled over and no longer holding a gun to my head, "I have value, you said it yourself. If you would give me a chance to-"
"Yeah, sure." Sanzu huffs out as he stands back up, "The only way we'll let your sorry ass rise in rank is if you had the skill to land a punch on Mikey, but no one can do that." Sanzu chuckles to himself and puts the gun against my head again.
"Let me try." My voice is stern as Mikey and I stare at one another. A rough hand grabs my jaw and yanks my head to look at Sanzu.
"You think you're hot shit because we're giving you a chance. I'll kill you right-" His words are cut off suddenly and my head is released. I look towards Mikey and see his hand raised.
"If she wants to try, I'm more than happy to oblige her." His black eyes shift from Sanzu to me, "I just can't promise you'll survive." With that, he stands and walks to the large empty area next to the couches. Sanzu retracts his gun and returns to his seat as I gingerly stand. I take a glance at Raku and his worried expression shoots an ache through my chest. I approach the all-powerful Mikey and let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding.
"One punch and that's it?" I ask him. He nods. Great, my life now hangs from the hands of a man that's shorter than me.
Of course, Mikey makes the first move. His leg swings up quickly to land a kick to my head. I block it just as fast with my arm, but the pressure building from his brute strength is becoming too much too rapidly. His power surges over mine and flings my body into the adjacent wall. Wood and plaster cracks and break from the impact, splintering around me. I wobble a bit as I gain a bit of composure and begin to feel the blood trickling down my face. Mikey is back within what feels like seconds and I begin to dodge his attacks. Punches, kicks, he's throwing everything my way and barely breaking a fucking sweat. My muscles and bones are beginning to ache from the stress of trying to evade his attacks, begging me for a break.
Almost like a shining beacon from above, an opening flashes through my mind. This is my chance. I can and will land this punch on him. I swing my right fist with all I've got and can feel the brief contact with skin. I blink a couple of times in disbelief as I stare at the new scene in front of me: King Mikey sitting in a pile of wood that used to be my coffee table and is holding the left side of his face. Oh shit. Oh shit oh shit oh shit. I fucking hit him. The executives look back and forth from their leader to me.
"Holy shit." Is all I can say. Almost maniacal laughter rips from my chest as I can feel more blood drip down my face. The laughing doesn't stop, I can't hold it back. Raku runs over to me and takes my bleeding face gently in his hands as I continue to cackle.
"Zumi, we need to get you to a hospital." His tone is kind yet stern. I push him away slightly and stumble a bit.
"What? I can't be that hurt. I've taken," I can't stop laughing long enough to finish a sentence, "I've taken way harder hits before." I wave a hand at Raku and look over at the executives. A couple have scrambled to Mikey's side and the others are staring at me wide-eyed. Raku takes my hand and pushes me in front of the mirror above the small bar. No fucking way. My eyes lock onto the single blown-out pupil in my left eye, "Wooooow..." Raku tugs gently on my arm to get my attention, but I can't stop staring at the damage left from the impact I made. I notice Raku step away from me in the reflection and a blonde head appears in his place. I turn to come face to face with Mikey.
"I'm impressed." His cheek has begun to bruise and swell a bit. He hands me a slip of paper and pokes a finger into my forehead, "Tomorrow, come to this address and go up to the top floor at 11pm. Wear something nice." He quickly turns and gestures to his men to follow him as he heads out of the room. Raku takes the paper from my hand and shoves it in his pocket.
All I can think about is the thrill of it all. What does life have in store for me now?