Just business
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Apr 23, 2018 20:10:05 GMT
Post by Sonnet Matsuda on Apr 23, 2018 20:10:05 GMT
In the end everything collides 418 The man behind the desk was unusually tall for a Japanese man. Even sat, it was obvious. He was very slim, and older, with a smooth countenance that made it difficult to judge his age. Sonnet knew that he was in his mid-fifties, and had been a power in the Yakuza since before her father's illness. He'd jumped at the chance to take her father's position.
Sonnet didn't like him.
It wasn't because he had taken over from her father, he was ambitious, and the Yakuza valued ambition, and ability. Her father hadn't been able to do his job, and so someone who could came along. He'd been good to her, hadn't barred her from entering the Yakuza, and hadn't stepped into her way because of her family history. Worse, he'd pitied her. He'd seen her father's slow fall, his agonising deterioration. He'd seen the teenage girl who'd had to care for her father like a child.
Enatsu Kenshin tapped his pen gently on the desk, then slid the sheet of paper he had just signed into an out tray. In his pale grey suit he looked every inch the business man. Grey was just the right colour for him. Everything about Kenshin was grey. His eyes, hair and skin all seemed to share the same washed out tone. It was as if he lived inside an old movie.
Sonnet had been escorted in by another Lieutenant. It was a mark of respect towards Kenshin's position that she didn't simply teleport into the office. She knew it well, she'd once played here as a little girl, and later helped maintain the façade that he wasn't dying.
He smiled as he looked up at her. "Sonnet Kohai, right on time. As always."
He spoke English in a similar manner to Sonnet, clipped and correct, learned as a second language. Even his voice sounded grey.
"I don't think I'd have much excuse to be late for you Kenshin-san, not these days."
"Indeed." He did not smile. The Yakuza liked to pretend it was a legitimate business, with legitimate offices. They even had some legitimate ventures. Kenshin was the perfect face for that. Only the face however, the man had a mind like a steel trap. Under his management the Yakuza's business on the East Coast had gone from strength to strength. People that got in his way were paid off, or removed. Sonnet had been the instrument of that removal more than once.
"There is an irritant that needs removing."
My childhood spat back out the monster that you see
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Just business
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Post by Sonnet Matsuda on May 9, 2018 19:39:33 GMT
In the end everything collides 332 Nodding, Sonnet took the seat that Kenshin gestured to, adjusting her jacket as she sat. The butt of her gun was briefly visible before the fabric fell back into place, concealing the weapon once more. From the tone in Kenshin's voice it seemed more than likely that she would be expected to use it before the night was out. Her superior had called upon her services for such tasks before, particularly since the Event. Her ability made her an exceptional assassin, able to enter a hotel room without bothering to go through the door.
That and she could be gone quick enough to leave almost no trace, and with no prior criminal record she would be difficult to trace even if she left something behind. "Tell me what needs to be done."
She had slipped back into Japanese, the NYPD had translators of course, but the use of a different language would at least discourage the opportunistic eavesdropper. Kenshin began to explain, it was not unusual, a reporter that was determined to expose some of the Yakuza's more sensitive businesses. She asked briefly what other approaches had been made, then raised an eyebrow, the man had apparently brushed off the offer of a substantial bride, as well as attempted intimidation. Now he was under Police protection. Kenshin had cops on the payroll, and one of them was apparently getting his hands on the location of the reporter turned informant.
Sonnet sat quietly through all of this, asking the occasional clarifying question. She simply absorbed all of the information she was given. She didn't need to ask any other questions, it was clear enough what Kenshin expected to happen next. The man was a threat to their business, it appeared that he had some kind of source that was giving him access to privileged information. Get into the safehouse, then end the threat. Spending time extracting the identity of his source from him would be dangerous, Kenshin would concentrate on finding the mole.
My childhood spat back out the monster that you see
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Just business
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May 30, 2018 17:55:37 GMT
Post by Sonnet Matsuda on May 30, 2018 17:55:37 GMT
In the end everything collides 345 Locating the safe-house hadn't been difficult, expensive perhaps, dirty cops always were, but it hadn't cost them anything but money. Sonnet was stood on a rooftop across from the apartment that the reporter and his family were stashed in. She'd been around the building twice, easily spotting the plain clothes police officers on guard duty. There was a car at the front, the heavy window tint and clustered antenna's giving away its identity as belonging to New York's Finest. The same went for the car at the back of the building. Clearly the NYPD and the FBI were taking no chances with this witness.
No doubt there would be officers inside the apartment and an ESU team on standby should there be a concerted effort to assault the safe-house. It made sense, the Yakuza did not have a record of rolling over for Police investigations. That and the knowledge that they had a metahuman on the payroll would ensure a solid police presence. Sonnet would not be entirely surprised if they had a Hero on speed dial as well. The man inside the building was a high profile witness, and the best way to deal with a hostile metahuman was another metahuman.
The two plain clothes officers behind the wheel of the unmarked car shifted and grumbled. They'd been on shift for nearly six hours now, with no clear end in sight. The coffee in their cup holders had long since gone cold, but one of them sipped at it anyway. Grimacing at the temperature, or lack thereof. The other pushed his head back against the headrest, struggling to keep his eyes open.
"Y'know, I really don't know how you drink that crap."
His partner sipped at the coffee again. "It was crap when you bought it. If anything it's better now that it's cold."
The other man shook his head in exasperation, "Yeah well then you can buy it next time."
That was when he noticed Sonnet sitting in the back of the car. He went for his gun. She got there first.
My childhood spat back out the monster that you see
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Just business
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Post by Sonnet Matsuda on Jun 9, 2018 8:38:48 GMT
In the end everything collides 336 Sonnet's hand, flat, palm down, slapped down on the butt of the man's pistol, he struggled to get his hand around her, looking down to manoeuvre around the unseen obstacle. That was his first mistake. While he was struggling to pull his gun Sonnet had kicked out one long leg into the back of the other officer's head, slamming him forward and bouncing his head off the dashboard. He turned around woozily, trying to throw a punch which Sonnet blocked lazily with the palm that had been on top of the first man's gun, using the momentum of his attack to catapult her elbow into the now armed officer's nose. He dropped his gun as blood spurted from his face, crying out in shock and pain.
It clattered into the footwell, and Sonnet turned her attention back to the man she'd already partially concussed. He was regaining more of his faculties, and reached over the back of his seat to lunge for her throat, she disappeared, reappearing behind him and putting a boot squarely into his backside, lodging him firmly in the gap between the front seats. She caught sight of the driver going for the horn, spinning the wheel so he missed and catching one of his arms between the spokes, she pushed it further, and he groaned as his forearm was caught on the dash, twisting his wrist in a direction it was not meant to go.
The other man was still struggling, trying to get out from between the seats. She pulled her foot back and realigned her aim, before kicking it forward once again. There was a small squeak, and the man went very still. A rabbit punch to the throat of the driver threw him back against the window, choking, and a blow delivered from her elbow to his forehead on the rebound left him unconscious.
The last man was still mostly unmoving, and he went even more still when he heard the click of Sonnet's gun being cocked.
"Fucking meta."
My childhood spat back out the monster that you see
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Just business
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Jun 28, 2018 18:42:54 GMT
Post by Sonnet Matsuda on Jun 28, 2018 18:42:54 GMT
In the end everything collides 410 Sonnet left the two men in the trunk of the car, both thoroughly restrained with their own handcuffs, zip ties, and judicious use of duct tape. That same duct tape would be keeping them quiet as well. She locked the trunk, idly spinning the keys on her hand for a moment before dropping them down the sewer grate beside the wheel. She looked around, there was no one about, and no one to watch as she disappeared again, reappearing in the doorway of the building. It was solidly built, with a thick heavy metal frame, and a row of buttons to one side that presumably buzzed up to the apartments.
Unfortunately, the rest of the door was made from thick glass. Sonnet didn't even pause, reappearing on the other side of the door and walking casually down the hallway. There was a man sat in the corner, out of sight from the door itself. He nodded at her, then went back to his magazine, taking just a second too long to realise that he hadn't heard the front door open or shut.
She locked his unconscious form in the cleaning closet, propping him up next to three mops and a bucket full of dirty water. The building was nice enough, and had probably cost the NYPD a lot of money to purchase the apartment, she wondered if they would keep it now that it had clearly been compromised, or if they would simply get rid of it and set up a new safehouse somewhere else.
At least the elevator didn't have music.
The apartment was on the second floor. High enough that it would be hard to break into from outside, but not so high that an escape through a window was an impossibility. She'd have to be quick to make sure that her target didn't simply make a break out of the window.
This was the point where things would become more difficult. There was no way they would just open the door to her if she knocked, and it was likely reinforced, so a simple boot wouldn't do the job either. She emptied the magazine of her pistol into the door. Not the point with the lock, which would have most of the reinforcement, but at a point at head height for her. There was a glint of light through the tiny gap it had created, and that was all Sonnet needed to get inside the safehouse.
My childhood spat back out the monster that you see
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Just business
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Post by Sonnet Matsuda on Jul 11, 2018 9:54:59 GMT
In the end everything collides 328 She was faced with a dilemma, either there was another officer inside the safe house, in which case she would be better equipped to deal with him with a loaded firearm. On the other hand, waiting too long would give him time to prepare for the inevitable assault.
Sonnet didn't bother reloading, teleporting into the space that she had a glimpse of through the gap in the door. She spun, expecting to see an officer pressed against the wall. There wasn't one, and she took the opportunity to pull a small metal rectangle from her gun holster, snapping it into the bottom of her pistol. She was careful not to leave the discarded magazine behind as evidence.
The TV was on, a brightly coloured commercial advertising some toy or other filling the room with colour and noise. There was a man on the sofa, and Sonnet recognised him as the man she had come to kill. He was good looking in a rugged sort of way, with a full head of hair shot through with grey and a five o'clock shadow.
He stared at her without moving, there was no fear on his face, no anger, just resignation. She stared back for a moment, surprised at his apparent acceptance of his fate. There was no movement in the small apartment for a moment, simply Sonnet and the reporter staring each other down in some strange mental dance.
Then a sudden movement from the reporter startled Sonnet, and she half raised her gun. She almost pulled the trigger, then realised that it wasn't the man that had moved, but a child. They were young, perhaps four or five. They stared at her in alarm and confusion, their eyes huge and wide in the way that only a child's can be.
Gently the man reached up and lifted the little girl from his chest where she had been curled up, placing her beside him on the couch.
Sonnet didn't move.
My childhood spat back out the monster that you see
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Just business
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Post by Sonnet Matsuda on Jul 23, 2018 9:24:27 GMT
In the end everything collides 287 The girl was very clearly awake now, afraid, the happy noise of the TV had been interrupted by gunshots, and young though she was, growing up in New York city meant she probably knew what that sound meant. Worse, there was a woman stood in the room with a blocky, evil looking black gun in her hand. Her eyes widened ever so slightly.
Sonnet was still frozen, her gun extended. The only movement in her body was her eyes, flickering from the girl, to the father, then back to the girl once more. Her face was an impenetrable mask, with no sign of mercy or forgiveness. Only her eyes revealed the turmoil going on behind that mask.
The TV was still playing, some loud and colourful tune announcing the beginning of a new cartoon. No one's eyes moved to the TV. It was a simple frozen moment, and in it, Sonnet wondered where the girl's mother was, or if she was even still alive.
She tried to move.
Couldn't.
Tried to squeeze the trigger.
Couldn't.
She was here to end a threat to her superior, to the Yakuza, and she couldn't do it. All because that little girl was staring at her. She had to kill this man, had to end him and the problem that he posed. And if she did that then she would have left this little girl without a father.
She didn't really know what it was like to grow up without a father, but only what it felt like to lose one too early. This girl wouldn't have to watch her father slowly collapse into something less than human, he would just be gone from her life. Forever…
Sonnet pulled the trigger.
My childhood spat back out the monster that you see
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Just business
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Dec 18, 2019 19:03:40 GMT
Post by Sonnet Matsuda on Dec 18, 2019 19:03:40 GMT
Shortcut My childhood spat back out the monster that you see | Sonnet retched, thin strings of acid falling from her mouth to sink slowly in the water of the toilet bowl. Gasping for breath, she leaned her forehead against the cool porcelain, before yanking her head up once more to retch into the bowl once more. There wasn't much left in her stomach to evacuate now, and all she got were a few drops of stomach acid as she dry heaved. She remained leaning over the cold material for a few moments more, before rolling to the side and sitting beside the white porcelain.
The gun lolled, only held half-securely in her right hand. It was cold now, with little evidence that it had been used. Impulsively she threw it away across the bathroom. It clattered metallically and slid beneath the sink. Staring after it for only a moment Sonnet closed her eyes and pushed her head back against the tiled wall, hard. It hurt. She did it again, the sharp pain sparking through the nausea that otherwise seemed to permeate her thoughts.
Awkwardly she pulled herself back to her feet, feeling strangely weak. There was sake in the kitchen. A minute later and she found that she'd opened the doors of the cupboard containing her booze, pulling out a green bottle and fumbling with the cap. It wouldn't open and she cursed in Japanese throwing the bottle across the small apartment. Gripping the countertop, Sonnet forced herself to calm down, at least long enough to pull out a second bottle and this time open it properly.
She raised the bottle by the neck, lifting it to her lips and pouring a more than generous measure down her throat, she almost didn't have to swallow. She grimaced as it burned her throat, then poured another measure after it.
Carrying the bottle, and a third, with her, the diminutive Japanese woman made her way into the lounge of her apartment. It was open plan, so it only took a few steps. She raised the bottle again. Already most of it was gone, and she could feel the faint buzz beginning at the back of her brain. She looked around at the fruits of her labours. The expensive furnishings, the huge TV she never watched, the bed with its silk sheets. In one corner stood a katanakake with her swords prominently displayed. The central, most proudly displayed one, had been her father's. He'd have been proud of her. Right?
She washed away the rising nausea with the last of the bottle of sake, dropping it onto the expensive grey carpet, before opening the second and raising that too. It was raining, rivulets of water running down the windows and obscuring the view she had paid so much money for.
The second bottle didn't last much longer than the first before joining its companion on the floor. The alcohol was beginning to have an effect, her empty stomach only hastening its work. Sonnet put her back against the window, feeling the cool glass through the thin covering of her shirt, and sank to the floor.
Her phone buzzed on the counter where she had left it. It would be Kenshin. She let it ring out as the warm arms of the alcohol enfold her in its embrace.
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Just business
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AGE
28
Villain
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Dec 29, 2019 15:36:08 GMT
Post by Sonnet Matsuda on Dec 29, 2019 15:36:08 GMT
Shortcut My childhood spat back out the monster that you see | Sonnet woke, bleary eyed. She hadn't made it to the bed or had decided that she didn't deserve to sleep between its silk sheets. She didn't remember which. Her head was against the cool glass of the window, now clear in the cold grey light of morning. Scattered about her on the carpet was the evidence of the previous night. She'd obviously supplemented the first two bottles of potent sake with several more. One, half-empty, was propped precariously against the leg of the glass coffee table.
She leaned forwards, awkwardly regaining her feet. One languid hand snagged the bottle from the carpet and lifted it. Tilting it to her lips, she let the burning liquid clear some of the fog from her mind. She gasped as she lowered the bottle, drawing in what felt like her first lungful of clean air in hours, though it too was masked by the strong flavour of the alcohol.
By the time she'd reached the kitchen the bottle was empty, and she dropped it into the trash. It clinked against the other bottles already in there. Closing the trash can, she finally moved across the kitchen to where her phone sat on the expensive countertop. There was one missed call. Kenshin didn't call repeatedly, you called him back.
She stared at the screen for a moment, steeling herself to actually respond. She would have to. He wouldn't be impressed that she had ignored him, that she had left a response till the morning after. There was nothing to be done now other than bite the bullet and respond. He would be angry, but to leave it longer would hardly allow things to cool off. Carefully she selected the number.
"Hello."
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Just business
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AGE
28
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Jan 27, 2020 20:40:19 GMT
Post by Sonnet Matsuda on Jan 27, 2020 20:40:19 GMT
Shortcut My childhood spat back out the monster that you see | The voice on the other end of the phone was curt and colourless. Kenshin had that effect. Sonnet was never sure whether the man only owned grey suits or whether his wearing of them washed the colour out. He looked more like an accountant than a Yakuza boss, sounded like one too. Yet he was one of the most powerful and feared men on the East Coast.
"Explain."
Everything was efficient, smuggling, drug dealing, trafficking. Even the way he spoke used the absolute minimum of breath for the maximum of effect. That voice could set men twenty year's Sonnet's senior trembling. She was too powerful, and right now, too hungover to care.
"It's done, he's dead."
His eyes, not afraid, not angry, but calm, flashed before her own.
"Witnesses."
The little girl. She couldn't have been much older than five. Those big, innocent, wide eyes. Had she understood what was going on? Sonnet didn't hurt children. She knew that the Yamaguchi-Gumi dealt in people, and from time to time those people would be children. She had distanced herself from those parts of the business, to the detriment of her rise in the ranks. Father Mathias had approved, though he would sooner she had left the Yakuza. Sonnet choked out the next word.
"No."
She was lying. Kenshin hung up. He would likely have her report to him later in the day, or even in the week, depending on his level of displeasure. Right now he had what he needed. Sonnet grabbed her coat. She was going to visit Mathias.
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