Chapter Text
Midnight in a town of this size usually meant tranquil streets and dark shops. The nightlife here was practically nonexistent, at the very least for ordinary humans. In this desolate business district, there was a restaurant that defied the dark and quiet night. A small flight of stairs led down to the narrow space occupied by a restaurant. From the windowed entrance one could see an open kitchen much like a bar on the left side, with small chairs and tables wedged in on the right side of the rectangular restaurant.
Inside, an elderly man with fading grey hair and a rather athletic build for his age stood over an open fire, sautéing the contents of a wok with quick flicks of his wrist that sent the ingredients up into the air in an arc where they would neatly find themselves back inside the large, sizzling pan.
There was only one customer tonight, a woman who looked as if she had been swept off by a hurricane. The crooked glasses enlarged her fatigued eyes, and while her clothes had at one point been quite fashionable, stains and marks of questionable origin had ruined the once expensive ensemble. She tried to hide her irritation as she sat in silence, waiting for the cook to speak.
“I’m afraid I can’t help you, it would be better if you asked a professional.” He at last spoke up, resuming the conversation as if his lengthy pause had never taken place. His hands stopped working, shutting off the flame and allowing the food inside the wok to simmer.
“I’ve already hired every killer that would come to this town, none of them could so much as scratch him.” Assassin. That was this man’s true profession. The kindly old face and humble restaurant were nothing but a façade. Unlike the others she’d contacted for this job, he didn’t do it for money. He, Shinsuke, chose to be an assassin because it was his calling.
For Shinsuke, murder was an art form. Death served as the core of his philosophy, and his ‘teachings’. A murderer who had been cast out from the temple he was raised in out of fear of his violent nature, yet he never understood why his masters were so afraid of death. So he set out to reform the world, and share with it his ideals.
In the fifty years since his exile from the temple he’d amassed a great number of disciples, taking children from the streets to teach them his unique martial arts, one bred especially for killing. In return for eliminating those Shinsuke regarded as ‘undesirables’ he rewarded with food and shelter. From politicians to simple thugs, Shinsuke’s targets are picked randomly, seen as mere stepping stones for the development of his students. The power to kill others so frivolously is what makes even the largest criminal organizations wary of him.
Shinsuke took his time to respond, now filling several deep bowls with a bed of rice and the stir-fried meat and vegetables from the wok.
“Is he powerful, this Mr.Migakaze?”
“He is a monster.”
“Hooh.” It was the first time in the entire conversation that Shinsuke had expressed any sort of interest. A bite, she thought.
“I’ll double the amount I offered before.”
“As I said, I’m not a professional, money is not my interest.” He shut down the offer without a second thought. After a pause, he spoke up.
“Why do you want him dead?”
“He destroyed my laboratory, and made off with my life’s work.” The Chimera, a human infused with the various genes of creatures like Takii Migakaze. He had stolen her after destroying the underground laboratory, along with a countless amount of valuable information that couldn’t be retrieved.
“Ahh, so that’s it. You want revenge for everything he destroyed, and for all your comrades he killed.”
She furrowed her brow, “There weren’t any lives lost, just data.”
Shinsuke, who had been adding the finishing touches to the meals, stopped. His elderly frame shook from a dry laughter that gradually raised in volume. She watched in confusion as he wrung out every coarse guffaw that almost seemed to be mocking her.
“Not people, but papers!” His voice still trembled with the last traces of laughter.
“What sort of monster doesn’t take any lives?”
“Takii Migakaze holds himself to a strange moral code, he does everything in his power to keep people alive, even his enemies.”
There he was, the biggest fool of all. A monster who chose to shackle himself up with chains. Shinsuke couldn’t understand it, this Migakaze was a walking contradiction.
“You’ve made an interesting enemy, miss. Share with me all that you know about him, and I’ll see if I can do you a favor.”
“I’ll leave you the files I have on him.” The deal seemed to be almost sealed. She didn’t quite understand it, but the reasons that would lead him to accepting the job didn’t matter. So long as the job was done, and her revenge sated she’d be satisfied.
“Come back tomorrow and I’ll have made a decision.” Shinsuke replied as he was handed a rather hefty folder containing the information about his target. She nodded and left, she would ignore the itch at the back of her neck that told her something was off. After pursuing the man who destroyed her work for all these months she could excuse a slight hiccup or two.
“Come on, everyone, it’s time to eat. Your reward for a job well done.” From the shadows of the restaurant appeared six figures, young men and women whose youthful exuberance had been vacuumed from their bodies. Their dark, sunken eyes were that of killers, the similarity that bound them together. Shinsuke placed a bowl of food out for each of them on the kitchen’s counter.
Outside a dark blue sky hung over them, a pitch-black hole in the center of it all, a sliver of light enveloped around one half.