Contents (***** being highest):
Romance: ****
Action/Violence: ****
Drama: ***
Rated PG-13 for violence, sexual innuendo and language

Glossary:
For the Japanese impaired
K'so/kuso/chikusho= literally, english equivalent to "shit" or "damn"
Nihonjin=Japanese person
Nippon= Japan
Ohiyo= greeting: Hello
Sugoi= excl: Amazing
Tatami= woven floor mat
Utsukushii= beautiful
Yakuza=Japanese mafia/gangsters

I had been told I could see the future... so why hadn't I seen this coming?
I felt my awareness chill with the sense of death as the blow seemed to shatter my ribs and throw me dangerously off balance. The worst thing I could do was be floored. My vision blurred and my head swam, but I managed to stay on my feet. No sooner than I had recovered, Tsubasa was attacking again and again, keeping me dodging his deadly swings without a moment’s pause.
"You're...getting...sloppy, Jirei!" He yelled between swings. I dropped to the ground and swung my legs around his and he toppled, but on top of me. He rolled me face up. I filled with panic and made a futile attempt to scramble away, but he placed a knee in the middle of my chest and raised his arms. His ending-game move struck like two sledgehammers on my throat and I blacked out for a split-second. When I gained conscious, he had already risen and was walking away. I sat up and the blood flowed from my nose.
"Really, Tsubasa, take it easy on her." Komori scolded him. She helped me up and put a tissue to my nose. "That move is meant to kill. A little harder and you would have."
"I'm looking out for her." He said calmly. "If she doesn't train, she's going to be no match when the Day comes.
I knew he was right. I pulled away from Komori.
"Thanks, but I need to take care of myself now." She looked a little hurt, but I ignored it. She was forever treating me like a child. Probably because I was the Little Sister of the Family, but little or not, I wasn’t a child. The youngest, but not a child.
"I will train." I announced. "I will train and I will be ready."
I spent the rest of the day in the weight room, at the dojo, at the punching bag. I worked myself for 7 hours straight and in the end, collapsed from fatigue.
Komori found me in the dojo, asleep. No one had bothered to disturb me.
"Hey, you've been sleeping." She whispered. I sat up, shocked.
"How long?" She checked her watch.
"Probably since 3 o clock." I felt my face flush and humiliation prickle inside me, for I knew Big Brother and Cousins trained in the dojo at 5, and had seen me asleep. I covered my face.
"K'so!" Komori squeezed my shoulders and gave me a such a reassuring smile that my upset lifted a little. Tsubasa appeared at the door.
"Hey, girls." He called. He put on his shades. "Let's go to a party."

Komori slipped me a dagger as we rounded the corner to the target location: a disco nightclub. I made a face as the pounding vibration of the so-called music reached my ears.
"Damn discos." I turned in shock at Komori's words. Her face was expressionless and solemn, but her mouth opened to utter, "The breeding ground where patrons come to listen to loud music so they don't have to talk while performing their pathetic mating dance." I suppressed a wide smile and couldn't resist adding,
"Remember you have to act like one of those patrons." She removed her shades and the gold makeup on her eyelids flashed startlingly. She pretended to adjust the sequined tube top and struck a pose. I laughed, and she sighed.
"I look like a whore."
"Can't tell the difference these days." I indicated a platinum-blonde hair girl wearing fishnets and stilettos, but hanging onto the arm of her muscle-shirt boyfriend.
"Who's our target?" I suddenly remembered. Komori kept her gaze straight ahead but said,
"A Government Nippon spy- followed us here. Agent Mekura. Very professional and experienced, damned good at his job." I fidgeted nervously.
"Hey, relax girls." Tsubasa looked the best of us all, dressed in a trim black suit. He stepped ahead of us and surveyed the disco, welcoming the pounding music and frenetic, shifting crowd. "It's business, but we can still have a little fun." He slipped an arm around Komori and grabbed her ass. She rolled her eyes but didn't push him off. They slinked away to disappear somewhere in the crowd and I suddenly felt a little lonely.
They didn't need me, of course. I thought bitterly. They could carry out the job themselves and I was only there to add to the scene. I watched the dancers cast their jumping shadows among the flashing, color-changing lights. Somewhere among them, I thought, Tsubasa and Komori were slitting the throat of some unsuspecting fool. This thought comforted me somehow, and I made my way to the bar. Why not have a little fun indeed.
The bartender was handsome, asian looking, his hair slicked back flawlessly. I approached and settled on a stool, leaning forward flirtatiously, just for fun. He dropped the glass he was cleaning and I heard it break with a sharp tinkle. He reached down quickly, seemingly embarrassed, and muttered, "chi-" The Japanese curse alone caught my attention. He was then sneaking me a glance, a blush creeping up to his ears. Never before had I generated this kind of reaction.
Of course not, you're dressed like a slut. My mind told me sharply. Tsubasa had picked out my clothes this time, a slinky catsuit and thigh-high boots. But I had worn it before and had not been checked out even once. You're too young, I reminded myself...
"Nihonjin?" I asked with a smile. He grinned widely, genuinely, and nodded.
"Not many Japanese around here." So that's why he had been staring at me.
"So, what are you doing here?"
"To clean glasses in a crummy nightclub, of course." I laughed, and he watched as if transfixed. When I finished, he solemnly pointed to himself.
"Minamino Ryo." I hesitated only for a moment, then gave him my real name.
"Etsuko Jirei." He sparked my interest like I had never felt before, and I was suddenly smitten. We chatted for so long, I forgot about the people around me and the night passed like a dream.
He broke into my reverie by gazing over my shoulder so long I turned to see what he was looking at. There was Tsubasa and Komori, staring, and waiting.
"Do you know them?" He asked. I stood up a little too quickly
"Yes. I'd better go." I turned away regretfully, but suddenly his hand clasped mine.
"I would really like to see you again." He gazed into my eyes very steadily, and his expression was deep and serious. He had beautiful eyes. Dark brown, but somehow so clear I could see right into them. He was handing me a bar napkin, and I nodded, turning with a final glance his way, and casually walked over to Tsubasa and Komori, heading out the exit.

"Looks like you had a good time." Tsubasa said without looking at me.
"He was really great. Really nice." Komori give me a secret-sharing smile.
"Hottie, too." Sometimes I really liked Komori. I looked at the crumpled bar napkin in my hand. It didn't have a phone number, as I expected, but an address.
"Japanese." Tsubasa said. "You've got to be careful of Japanese that aren't in our family." This time he was serious. He cocked his head at me and clenched his teeth.
"I know." I answered, truthfully. As a little sister, I was in danger these days. But I sensed honesty in this Ryo, and when I remembered his charming speech and amazingly good looks, I felt myself blushing. I really liked him. But then I remembered with a little shock. He had never really told me what he was doing in this town.

The napkin read: #314, 35 Verona street. Two numbers? I wondered to myself, but when I reached 35 Verona, I saw an apartment building.
Directed me right to his room, I mused, and tapped the intercom.
"Ohiyo?" His voice called. I smiled and answered,
"The masseuse you ordered." There was a pause, then I was buzzed in without a word. I jogged up the stairs to his room, and knocked. He opened the door a crack slowly, then swung it wide with a sigh.
"You had me scared." He exclaimed. I sauntered in, laughing. He had a large apartment, a balcony and a kitchen, but little furniture. His bed was in the living room, a tatami mat on the floor.
"Why?" He raised an eyebrow.
"That someone had misdirected a masseuse and that I would be tempted."
I gasped with indignation and shoved him lightly. He caught my wrist and I instinctively twisted out of grasp. He suddenly grabbed at me and had his arms locked around my waist.
"Sugoi, you're strong." He rubbed his arm where I had twisted. I struggled against him.
"So are you." I regretted saying. I was small and child-like compared to him, my body tiny and thin and my hips narrow. He was trim and fit, with a tailored posture and stood a head taller than me. He released me, and surveyed my stance.
"Kenpo? Judo?" He guessed. I answered without thinking.
"Karate." He nodded with approval, then added with insolence, "Wouldn't have expected it of one of your size." I swung at him and was blocked, lunged and was countered. I ducked out of the way and glared.
"Interesting. You fight well."
"Me? No way. Just defensively, but little else." I gave him a questioning look, but let it pass.
"Nice place you have."
"Not much. I'm just here for a few months, for conference."
"Ah, business." I nodded. My sharp-trained mind began sorting out his explanations. He had answered a little too quickly, like he needed to calm any suspicion.
"What are you doing in the west?"
"Living with a sister." I answered carefully. I had rehearsed my explanations meticulously, but he could have too.
Stop that. My conscience told me. You can't mistrust everyone. You're getting paranoid. Paranoia is a weakness.
And the last thing I wanted was a weakness.

"Come on, I want to show you something."
Ryo had a beat-up Honda, its roof rusting through and the seats torn. I slid onto the lumpy cushion.
"Couldn't you afford something better?"
"I could," He confessed. "But it wouldn't be appreciated around here."
He was right. As we drove off, I saw a group of teenagers, the air thick with smoke around them, cast dirty looks in our direction. A beer can bounced off the side of the car as we sped away.
"Of course. A car is a luxury." We crossed through the tough part of town quickly, infested with gangs and drug chains. Now the street life turned passive, the homeless weak and hopeless, the drug addicts and runaways. The city always had a stink of death and decay, of smoke and acid. I made a face of revulsion.
"How I would love to get away from this depressing pit."
"Exactly where I'm taking you." He said. I glanced at him, amazed.
"There's really a place like that?" He smirked.
"Hard to believe, but yes." It was a 40 minute drive to the edge of town, a nicer place, with actual parks and yes, trees. But the grassy areas were fenced in and the smell of the city remained.
"If this is what you meant, I'm not impressed."
"No, we're almost there." He pulled over to the side of a small road, and ushered me out. It was near the highway, and the road was set on some sort of a slope.
"Come on." He stepped over the railing and slid down the slope. I followed, hesistantly.
"Come on!" He urged. He grabbed my hand and ran, leading me through bushes and thorns and litter.
"Where are we going!" I started to laugh, stumbling over roots and weeds in my haste to catch up. I couldn't help but notice that somehow, we were going uphill. "We're just going to find more bushes and litter and weeds."
"Not in this place. At least not yet." And we were there, right in the clearing of thorn bushes, a grassy knoll. I was astounded.
The grass was long and rustled with the wind. Ryo flopped down in it like a child and lay on his back, staring up into the sky. I looked down the hill and gasped. The city was below us- way below. We were on the cliff I had seen several times while looking to the edge of the city, but felt it was impossible to reach the top. Ryo had found a path.
"Utsukushii." I breathed. But was still awed more by the silence- the sounds and stench of the city were gone. Even the sound of traffic on the nearby highway was undetectable and the stars were bright, unobscured by pollution and the glare of city lights. I smirked.
"I recognize this kind of cliff." I shot him an accusing look. "Classic makeout point."
"But it's built solely for two." He countered. The breeze rustled through the grass and crickets began to chirp. I sat beside him, tipping my head back to gaze at the stars and let my hair fly loose with the wind. Never could this be obtained in the city.
He sat up suddenly and moved in to kiss me. Surprisingly, I kissed back.

I awoke, the morning sun glaring in my eyes. Filling with panic, I brought my watch to my face: 7:30 am. Angry, I sat up, shaking dew off my leather jacket. I saw Ryo lying beside me, and yelled, my voice harshly breaking the morning tranquillity and echoing all around. He jerked upright and gasped sleepily, "What time is it?"
"7:30." I snapped. I wasn't angry at him, but was ashamed I had spent so much time with him. And what Komori would say! He roused slowly and heaved a sigh. He struggled to his feet and I scrambled up with him, heading towards the path we had taken. He followed me back to his car and I slid in with a groan.
"I'm sorry," He said quietly before starting it up. I sighed.
"No, no need." I gave him a comforting smile, then diverted my gaze. "It was nice." I whispered. He slid an arm around my shoulders and pulled me close. The morning was wet and cold, though my insides felt very warm.

I wasn't lying when I told Ryo I was living with a family member. I lived with Komori in a family-owned penthouse, among the rich apartment estates. I snuck in, hoping Komori was asleep, but with no luck.
I should have known. She rose with the sun. She was at the kitchenette, and pushed me a mug of tea as I entered. I grimaced at her reproachful gaze.
"Partying a little harder than usual, little sister?" She said angrily.
"Yes. Trashed, and crashed." I muttered. She looked at my jacket.
"Where was it? In a park?" I had dirt and grass smudged on the back. The events of the night made me blush uncontrollably.
"Fine. I wasn't at a party." I set a stance that determined I was not going to tell any more. She smirked.
"I hope you're not going in over your head, little sister." I clenched my fists.
"I will never be overwhelmed." I exclaimed. She nodded. "That's right. Remember that."
That night, I had a dream. I was drinking wine alone at the bar in the nightclub. The lights were flashing and the music was pounding, but the place was completely empty. I looked into the mirror across from me, but didn’t see my reflection. I threw my glass at it and it shattered into a million pieces. The wine turned into blood, dripping out of the shards and spreading out onto the floor.

"Happy Birthday."
I gasped as Ryo clasped a pair of leather gloves into my hands. Isotoner Lady’s gloves, the kind I would never buy myself.
"Oh no. I can't take this." I stammered. Ryo slipped them on my hands.
"They fit. They're yours." I shook my head, not wanting to take them.
"If you're going along with asian custom, I'm not buying it." He feigned melodrama.
"Oh, please take it, I insist, I am scum.." I stopped him, laughing.
"No, it's not traditional manners, it's real live guilt."
"It's your birthday." It was. I had never paid much attention to my birthday, and as far as I knew, never received a present for it. Besides, I told myself, you're tough as nails. You don't need thanks or praise. But I nodded at him graciously.
"And aren't we close enough to give presents at will?" He asked carefully. I pondered. We had been together how long? How many weeks and how many months? However, we wouldn't be together for much longer. It was nearly time for my family to move, and I knew I wouldn't see him again.
"Sure we are." I answered him. "But I'm afraid we just can't commit." He nodded understandingly.
"But whatever happens, I'm here for you." There words meant more to me than they had ever had. He grasped my hands and fell backwards, pulling me onto his tatami mat bed with him. I laughed and his hands trailed down to the buttons of my jacket. I shrugged it off for him.
"Might as well get our kicks now."

I felt his body slide down mine, awaking me from half-sleep. I caught his gaze, eyes alight with intention. He kissed my mouth gently, slowly increasing intensity. He traced the outline of my eyes, my mouth and my face, wordlessly, romantically. He sat up, straddling me. His hands crept up to my shoulders and he was caressing tentatively, fingers trailing upwards, wrapping around my neck; Pressed slowly, harder and harder...

I opened my eyes and gripped the bedcovers, the nightmare still lingering like a shadow. I looked beside me and froze- the peaceful sleeping form of Ryo. I sat up, only to feel him tugging me back down.
"Been waiting for you to wake up." He sensed my wide-eyed shock and asked, "What's wrong?"
"Bad dream." I answered truthfully.

I was on watch duty, staying by the clubhouse door to receive persons. It was an honor- the Father's way of telling me I was tough enough to keep the unauthorized out, and smart enough to distinguish them. But it was also tedious and boring as the hours passed. I was waiting for Komori and Tsubasa to return from a stake-out. They had been tipped off that Agent Mekura, the hit from about a month ago, had had a partner, a backup. He had to be eliminated immediately. I was angry that I couldn't go with them, but was assured that it was a much more important job to stand watch at the door. As time crawled by, I began to worry. It was way past the time that Komori said they would return. And Tsubasa was the most efficient assassin in the world.
Just then, there was the knock. It was Komori, and I flung open the door, only to greet blood-soaked clothes.
"Tsubasa..." She gasped, and I could only stare with shock. She had dragged herself all the way back to the clubhouse, losing a terrible amount of blood. She tried to go on, but sank to her knees.
The rest inside the clubhouse reacted faster and soon everyone was gathered around her. As a paramedic was called and a cousin wrapped up her arm where a bullet had lodged itself, I knelt beside her, trembling.
"Tsubasa?"
"Dead." She whispered. She pulled an envelope out of her jacket, the target’s file. I uncrumpled a blood-stained piece of paper- a government ID file.
"Find him." She hissed.

Later that night, I visited our computer experts, our terminal hackers. They processed the file, delving into government top-secret archives.
"Easy as cake." Mia-san said. She hit Print and I grabbed the sheet that slid out. I held the identity of Tsubasa's killer, cause of Komori's suffering, mortal enemy and treacherous snake. I turned the page over and looked into Ryo's eyes.

I was numb. I could barely register for the moment, and felt I would never recover. But when I did, the first thing I felt was anger. Tsubasa had warned me. I had had the dreams. Komori had spelled it out for me and still I had ignored the signs. And I was angry most of all at Agent Minamino, the lies, the way he fooled me so easily. And then I had to hate everything about him, because I didn’t know which part was truth.
Komori trained with me, despite her arm. I was completely focused and almost demonic with rage. I actually managed to floor her easily, and in a split second, had slammed my fingers in the two points on her neck, Tsubasa's attack.
She lay unconscious too long for comfort, and I began to regret. I didn’t want to take it out on Komori. But she finally recovered and sat up slowly, refusing my help. I started to apologize but she simply smiled, tasted the blood that was trickling down her face.
"Kill the bastard."

And I would keep my word, I thought, kicking aside a piece of crumbling concrete. Ryo's neighborhood was just past the bad side of town, not fully escaping the drunkenness and sleaze, but showing less of it. I put on my shades that I had never worn to his place before, but tonight I would. Tonight he would be told the truth who I was. Not that he would need to be told, I thought fiercely. He's an agent. He knows.
I wore the gloves he gave me, an ironic twist of fate. Not because it was cold- my hands were actually sweating unbearably. But to prevent fingerprints on the gun I would kill him with.
At first I had protested with Komori. I told her I would mess up, I was a bad aim and a slow thinker. But she showed me her bad arm and insisted I kill him with the gun. It was last minute, and they were at their wit's end. I had to do it now, and I had to do it myself. We couldn't afford any less.
I reminded myself of the reason I was doing this and what a good time it was to be in the mafia. I smiled to myself. I thought of the street people, the drug dealers, the prostitutes. I would have become one of them had not Komori discovered my talents and recruited me for the exclusive branch of yakuza. I did petty robberies and assassins, all with top secrecy therefore little glory. But that was until Father had devised a plan. No longer would we have to hide in the shadows as pickpockets and gangsters. It depended on me.
I kept this all in mind to focus my intent and carry out my purpose efficiently and mercilessly. At least I didn't have to bother with the kiss of death. My thoughts turned bitter again. I had already given him plenty.
I turned into the building, and was buzzed in almost immediately, for I had visited so many times before. And now for the last time, I mused, giving a friendly nod to the clerk and heading on up to his room.
I tapped on his door, and touched the knob. It wasn't locked. I slipped inside and called out softly,
"Hi." He was in the kitchen, micro waving a dinner. He looked up and smiled instantly, making me lower my eyes.
"Hey. Making myself a healthful dinner, as you can see." He took the floppy container out and tossed it on the counter. "What can I do for you?"
I stared him, Ryo Minamino, gentleman and lover. But I shook aside that person and gave myself reality. Agent Minamino, Nippon government detective. I reached behind me and locked the door. Almost immediately he seemed to know what I was doing. His face shifted to stern and tense, and he stepped back.
I pulled off my shades and reached into my pocket. I put on my family ring in front of his eyes, over the gloves, and drew from the other pocket, the automatic.
I pointed it at him, but could not control my trembling at the same time.
"Agent Minamino, I will kill you, in the name of the family Yakuza." I pronounced clearly, and clicking off the safeties as punctuation. He didn't move and didn't react, simply swallowed a little and looked into my eyes.
"Jirei," He started. "Don't do this."
"You killed Tsubasa." My voice began to rise to a pitch I didn't intend. "You're a spy. I do this for the honor of my family!" I kept my thoughts merciless and my mind focused on what I had to do. But his very presence triggered my love for him.
But love is a weakness and an enemy.
I shot him twice, once in the leg as I faltered, and then in the shoulder. I swore and prepared to target his heart, and in a fleeting moment, dropped the gun, sobbing and ran to catch him as he fell. I cradled his head and cried for the longest time. Love wasn't my enemy. What I sought to believe and pledge allegiance to had all been foolishness. My tears subsided, but the misery remained.
He stirred. He was still alive. His blood was on my clothes and I was sure to be caught for his murder. But I didn't care now.
He reached up and touched my face with the little strength he had left, and whispered,
"Touch me- once more." I pulled off the gloves, tears starting up again, lay beside him and traced everything on his face I wanted to remember- his eyebrows, his lips, and the outline of his eyes. I stared into them, clear as glass and bottomless. He lay there for a moment longer, then with startling suddenness, pulled a gun out of his jacket and pressed my hands over it, so my fingerprints were now on it. I could only stare and gape with shock, like everything was in slow motion as he put his hands around mine, around the gun, and put the cold steel into my ear with an iron grip. He whispered gently, "As sworn alliance with the Investigative Agency of the Nippon government, I must kill you, Yakuza Little Sister, for prevention of the corruption of society." My mouth dropped open and he quickly covered it with his own. He kissed me with all the tenderness and love there is.
And fired.

Author's note: The actions performed in this story are not necessarily my own or of my opinion. For example, I would NEVER kill my own lover. Unless I had to.