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Fuku was a perfect girl. She was a graduate who left as a straight A student, top of her class, AND valedictorian. Someone like her was never bound to fail.
The year is 2006. Fuku is 27 and works as a barista in her local coffee shop. Sure, it didn't pay well, but it was what got her farther. She was desperate. Desperate to have money, to pay her bills. She was perfect, wasn't she? She should be doing more than this job. But it was the only job in town that wasn't far from her house, and the only job in town that would take her.
She pulls out her phone for a moment, this being the only time that night that the coffee shop wasn't busy. The time. 9:27 PM. They close in three minutes. She should be good, right? No annoying customers demanding a cookie and a pumpkin spice latte?
Wrong. The bell on the door rings, and a tan, black haired man walks in. He seemed calm.
"Could I get a..." The man continues. "For Daita?"
Fuku almost tunes his voice out, only listening slightly, for his voice was almost drowned out by the coffee machine buzzing behind her as her coworker, Koudou, tried desperately to make it stop. She puts in his order before gathering her things and getting ready to leave.
9:28 PM.
Right at 9:30, the man's order is done.
"For Daita?" She calls out, and he approaches again. He takes his drink and leaves, Fuku almost immediately following after she clocks out. "Finally," She says under her breath, exiting the coffee shop and continuing her walk home. She says to herself, "Payday is tomorrow... Nothing to look forward to."
"Hello, ma'am...?" A deep, tired-sounding voice calls out from the alleyway.
She almost screams, flinching. "...Yes?" Fuku said back in a hushed tone, not wanting to draw any attention to her random conversation.
"Come closer," says the man in the alley, using a finger to beckon her towards him. He was standing with another girl wearing a white, long-sleeved shirt and a white ushanka. "I heard you wanna make some money?" He says in a condescending tone.
"Uhm.. yes, I do. I don't work somewhere that pays very well," continued Fuku, making it clear she needed money. She walked closer to see him. "Why do you ask?"
He had dark, pastel yellow hair and a cherry hairpin that seemed old. He also had a dark green, puffy, and long-sleeved vest with a dark brown backpack. He was VERY short, 4'6 about.
"I'm Katerina Kuznetsov." The woman speaks up. She has a Russian accent, long dark hair, a form-fitting, long-sleeved white shirt, and dark blue long pants. Much taller than the man. "This is my friend, Kenji Bungourou, and we have people we want gone."
"Like.. dead gone?" Fuku stammers, a bit nervous.
"No, sent to the rainbows gone, OF COURSE WE MEAN DEAD," Katerina snaps. "And that's why we turned to you. You need money, and we need blood. Which is why we have a couple of simple requests that could turn your whole life around, Fuku."
"H-How do you know my name!?" Fuku yelps.
"The Starbucks name tag on your shirt," Kenji says back.
"Ah." Fuku mumbles, feeling a bit stupid for forgetting to remove it.
"We can pay you over 25,000 yen if you get rid of some people for us," Katerina adds. "Is it a deal?"
Thoughts swarm and overwhelm Fuku's mind. She could finally have the life she wanted, but only if she...killed? What was she meant to do!? It's either a good life with a price, or a bad life with regret of not choosing to be a literal hitman!
"I..." She stammers, before reluctantly shaking Kenji and Katerina's hands. "Its a deal."
Nobody needs to know.