In a Room of One's Own [Closed]

[Kitty]

It was a typical evening in the base: loud, rowdy, and headache-inducing. Katanai could not tolerate it any longer. Sitting in the den had been a horrendous idea, so she had tried sitting out in the branches of a tree near the training grounds. However, thanks to some idiot she barely knew training by throwing bent spoons every which way and crying out in an excessively dramatic way each time one was thrown, even her secluded tree branches were far from peaceful. If she left the base at this time of the evening, with her luck, she would be bombarded with a round of troublesome questions.

Through all the rambunctious chaos, there was one place she knew that no one would dare enter. No shouts of excitement or frustration would greet her at the door. Not a single, nagging, unnecessary question would stab at her sensitive ears. There was even a few comfortable sitting options open and available to only her.

Upon entering Sasayaita Namida, Katanai had entered but one adamant request--she wanted her own room. She never was too fond of other people, and lived alone for quite some time now. It was one thing to move into a house filled to the brim with people. It was another thing altogether to share something as personal as a room. She needed an escape of her own.

The other assassins seemed to quickly catch on to how sacred the boundaries of her room were. The unfortunate soul who would dare enter her realm would be greeted undoubtedly by a glare colder than ice that seemed to somehow burn and ache at the same time. This was her territory.

A smile smile of contentment graced her lips as she made her way up the stairs. The bronze of the stair railing felt cool on her fingertips as they grazed it on her way up. The door was closed, yet somehow it felt welcoming to her. Opening the door, she tugged it back behind her, leaving it cracked open ever-so-slightly for ventilation purposes. She opened the tall window that led out to her balcony, creating her own cross breeze.

Taking a seat atop her neatly made bed, she listlessly reached over to the small cherrywood nightstand. It was clear of clutter, only holding a candle, which she promptly lit, and a hardcover book, which she seized into her clutches. She opened to the page that she had marked with a single strand of navy blue ribbon. She was slightly past the halfway mark of the book, but planned to take some downtime tonight to finish it up.

This was her time, her place, and her freedom. A good book, a soft bed, and a room of one's own--it was the ideal combination to the feline-esque woman. Her hair shone silver from the combination of the candle's flame and the scarce moonlight that poured into the room. Raking her fingers through these tresses nonchalantly, she submerged into her own thoughts.

[xJaxx]

Arata had been watching her for some time now. She started off in the den, then proceeded to wander outdoors, until she finally made her way back inside. From the looks of it, she was searching to get away from the chaos that unfolded in the base. The discord and disorder wasn't anything out of the ordinary. Then again, he had recently returned from a mission spying on a rivaling gang, so things could've changed since he was last settled in.

As soon as she scuttled upstairs, he rose to his feet. She seemed to be a worthy victim. Normally, she wouldn't have interested him, but after observing her, he knew she'd be the perfect person to"buddy" up with. She didn't seem to have the unruly clingy personality of most women, and she seemed to like being alone, which would mean when something happened between them, she most likely wouldn't come out and tell someone what he had done. It was a win-win for him.

A sly smile pricked at his lips as he quietly bounded up the staircase after her; careful to keep a few feet away from her last step. Upon reaching the top of the stairs, he watched as she disappeared into her room. Taking a glance around to clear the coast, he nodded to himself before taking his good old time to reach her door. His hand slid to the slightly-cracked door and swung it open in a dauntless motion.

His eyes widened, stimulating his 'surprise'. "Ah, I'm sorry for intruding. I wasn't informed that my old room was already occupied," he lied.

He allowed his glance to falter slightly, letting it fall upon the book she held in her hand. He assumed it was most likely some kind of romance book that the chicks loved. Why they obsessed over a prince in shining armor was beyond him, but as long as it got them into some sort of fantasy haze that tricked them into thinking he was like a real prince, he could care less. The more they day-dreamed about lovey-dovey crap, the easier it was for him.

"Oh, you read too?" he asked, drawing his attention back to her face. "I admire that," he commented, casually leaning back against the frame of her door and offering one of his smirks. He was confident she'd fall for it.

[Kitty]

Reading texts like this peaked her interest. Tonight, she was reading a compilation of studies done by the psychoanalytical genius, Sigmund Freud. Over the years she worked as an assassin and spy, Katanai greatly appreciated the teachings of Freud. His texts gave her a few hidden tips here or there that assisted her in monitoring people, judging them by body language if necessary. In general, she was an observant person. Wells of information like this only expanded her capabilities.

Ears twitching atop her head, there was an audible "swoosh" as the door was flung carelessly open. Her hands worked quickly, shoving the ribbon into place before closing the text. Her eyes narrowed in a perturbed fashion. What kind of madness was this? Before her eyes, some unknown pretty-faced man waltzed in as if he owned the place. This person just radiated a certain kind of vibes; these vibes told her that she was not going to like this man at all. Her eyes remained narrowed, icy glare ensuing.

"Ah, I'm sorry for intruding. I wasn't informed that my old room was already occupied,"

Katanai was not sure who this person was, or what he thought he was trying to do, but the idea that this room was not entirely her own gave her the disturbing sensation of displacement.

"Well," she began calmly in her usual tone of soft-spoken certainty. "I suppose you know now."

Her glare relaxed ever so slightly, but her face remained cold. She was not going to give him the impression that he was forgiven for bursting into her territory unannounced. On the contrary, she was seething with rage in the innermost crevices of her mind.

It was not the fact that he had come in unannounced that set her off at this point. If he was in fact "startled" that someone was "in his old room," that would be understandable. The fact that he insisted on staying in her breathing space was what kindled a fiery rage within her. Alright. He "made a mistake." He entered her room "not knowing" that it was her territory. Now was his cue to get out as soon as possible.

There he stood, however, smug as ever. Not an inch did he move. He showed no signs of retreat. Katanai was unsure as to who this man was, or what he was doing here, but she most certainly did not like it. A small feeling of concern was buried under her skin. What if this fellow was not even a part of Sasayaita Namida? Perhaps he was a spy from a rival group. She had never seen him before, that was certain. But alone in the base? Well, perhaps his comrades were downstairs, taking out the boy with the spoons and the remarkably perky girls who were always together. Were Tamaki and Tara safe?

"Oh, you read too?"

With that one casual statement, her skepticism was lightly brushed off of her. Okay, so he was just another resident. This particular resident seemed remarkably dense, considering he had yet to leave her turf. When he addressed her reading, she did not grace him with a spoken reply. Rather, she gave a brief nod. Perhaps he did not even notice it.

"I admire that,"

Suppressing a sigh, she looked into the eyes of her intruder. Katanai was not amused. What did he think he was doing?

"I suppose he is suggestion that he reads as well, somehow giving us a comradeship of sorts," she thought to herself. She quirked her eyebrow upward, feigning interest in the topic he was presently babbling on about. Thoughts of questioning him about Freudian theory came up, but she decided against it. The look on his face not only gave her the urge to punch him, but somehow communicated the fact that he was not truly there to discuss literature.

"I see," she stated flatly, wondering which direction she would take this conversation on. "I take it you read mostly romance novels in which the heroine is a 'diamond in the rough,' falling in love with some sort of 'prince charming' and living 'happily ever after.'"

A smirk tugged at her lips, musing on the idea of this intrusive stranger curling up with a romance novella.

"I do not believe in 'happily ever afters,' and I do not tend think highly of people who do."

With that, her interest in this man faded. Perhaps if she did not look at him, he would leave her be. She re-opened her book, visually scanning the page to find where she had left off.

[xJaxx]

"Well, I suppose you know now."

Arata could already tell that she was going to be a tough nut to crack by the glare that peered through him. She didn't seem to be even the slightest bit interested in him and it was bothersome. She obviously wasn't most like girls, which would mean he had to work harder. If it wasn't for the fact that his pride was on the line, he would've given up by now.

"I see," she began after they held each other's gaze. "I take it you read mostly romance novels in which the heroine is a 'diamond in the rough,' falling in love with some sort of 'prince charming' and living 'happily ever after."

Okay, so she was completely on the other spectrum of what he had expected. Then again, he didn't really mind it. It made the game of cat and mouse more entertaining--or, should he consider it cat and...cat?

His eyes momentarily drifted to her ears, which were extremely feline-like. How had she acquired them? Was some kind of science experiment conducted on her that caused a mutation? Surely she couldn't have been born with them. They were so...unnatural. He would've though hideous, but he didn't want to turn himself off. She was about the only woman within the organization that appeared to be a suitable victim for him, so his options were limited.

"Actually," he retorted composedly, leaning his back against the door frame. "I haven't even fathomed picking up that lovey-dovey chick stuff. It'd be a waste of my time."

"I do not believe in 'happily ever afters,' and I do not tend think highly of people who do."

He blinked, slightly thrown back by her comment. Weren't chicks supposed to be crazy about that crap? They were supposed to sit around day dreaming about their 'Prince Charming' who would whisk them off their feet to live in a palace of happiness and love, not completely throw that dream out the window. What was with this girl?

He pushed himself off of the doorway and stood erect. "Well, I wouldn't believe in them unless I experience it myself," he murmured in a smooth tone.

A slight wave of frustration washed over him as he glanced up, only to see that she had went back to her book. Shouldn't her eyes be fixed on him while he spoke? Shouldn't she be listening intently? Shouldn't this be going according to plan like it always had? Already, he could tell his task was going to be harder than anticipated.

[Kitty]

In general, people put her on guard. There were perhaps one or two people in this world that did not make her feel at least slightly uncomfortable. This is why she did not enjoy when others barged their way into her room. However, this guy put her especially on guard. There was something about her that just made her feel off. There was no way of putting herself at ease in his presence, and it made her skin crawl.

"Actually, I haven't even fathomed picking up that lovey-dovey chick stuff. It'd be a waste of my time."

Emanating a small "tch," she tried to hold herself back from rolling her eyes or crinkling her nose. Just by looking at him, she could tell that he was that kind of person. Sexist was a term for it, but it was an ignorant kind of sexism; the kind of discrimination where he would call books "chick stuff" without realizing how much of an idiot it made him sound like.

If other women were anything like she was, this guy would never attract any attention from the opposite sex. However, most women were nothing like here. They enjoyed dressing up in low cut, high-skirted frills, flirting and flaunting their bodies, attracting males by dropping their dignity in exchange for attention. The idea of such attention did not sound all that appealing to her. Not only that, but she knew for a fact that her physical appearance made her unattractive, perhaps even grotesque to some people.

For example, her own parents found her to be disastrous when it came to her appearance. When going out to the most formal of occasions, the would often put her in long skirts and hats, trying to hide the atrocities that her genetic mutation bestowed upon her. After her parents' passing and her own growing and maturing, she tended to care less about hiding her flaws. They were a part of her. Besides, wearing clothing that would cover them made movement restricted. Considering the sheer physicality that her lifestyle entailed, she abandoned any ideas of her own normalcy.

"Well, I wouldn't believe in them unless I experience it myself,"

Katanai took a moment to inwardly curse. She had been hoping desperately that if she did not look at him, ignoring his presence, he would go away and leave her be. Unfortunately, it seemed as if her plan was not quite working out. Deciding that his comment was not worth tearing herself away from her book, she stayed buried between the lines of text.

"I see," she commented flatly. Perhaps he would soon realize just the extent of how little she cared.

She found the sound of his voice irritating. As a matter of fact, she had half a mind to wipe the ridiculously smug look off his face. She could tell from the lightness of his movements that he was most likely a spy for the organization. She was a spy as well, but for the most part, she was an assassin. She did not know where this man came from, why he was in her room, why he was talking to her, or what he thought he could accomplish by keeping up his smug facial expression. What she did know: she did not like his presence polluting her sanctuary.

[xJaxx]

"I see,"

With those two words, irritation and interest concocted an odd wave of emotions within him. He hated girls like her. The ones who were either too dense to acknowledge his subtle hints or too conceited that they'd think of themselves as "too good" to even fall for him. For the moment being, he was leaning toward the conceited hypothesis.

Then again, he wasn't sure. That perked his interest. Normally, he would've been able to receive a smile from the girl he was tormenting, but she held no curiosity. If anything, she seemed more absorbed in her book and angered by his presence than anything.

Allowing his eyes to glance over, Arata studied her. He was often scolded for not paying attention to body language during missions. But how the hell was he supposed to decipher someone's personality based on the way they sat or walked? To him, a person either slouched or sat erect and either walked fluently, clumsily, or waddled. Nothing interesting. But then again, his training as a spy did offer him scandals information on certain happenings within the base.

Taking a few soundless steps forward, he strode toward the large window that overlooked her balcony. He peered out the window and onto the balcony until he caught a glimpse of his faint reflection. Another wave of subtle frustration rose over him. He was good looking, he admitted it. So why was she so hard to win over?

A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he fabricated a story in his mind. "My friend and I used to sneak out onto this balcony late at night," he murmured in a tone smothered with untruthful reminisce. Lying and coming up with faked memories was something he did often, so it came rather easily to him. He glanced over at her. "I'm not sure you know him; blonde, blue eyes?"

Arata had often seen Katanai around a flaxen haired man, even if it was for brief periods of time. They had to be friends, so why not use him as an icebreaker? Now if only he could remember his name.

Arata never really paid much attention to the others, so learning their names took a bit of effort. If their names weren't constantly being yelled around the base, he wouldn't pick them up. But one thing he did know: the man had a sister whose name corresponded similarly to the first four letters of his name. All he had to do was remember hers, and he'd be set.

Tora...Tika...Tala..? What was her name?

He let out an embarrassed chuckle to cover his blunder. "Who am I kidding? You probably don't know him. He's rather exclusive; doesn't freely hold conversation with people." His gaze drifted back to the window, inwardly hoping it'd give some insight to the mystery of her friend's name and hoping she hadn't taken notice of his stumble.

[Kitty]

"My friend and I used to sneak out onto this balcony late at night,"

"Is he still here?" she thought to herself in irritation.
When was this guy going to just leave and give up? She knew for a fact that he had no real interest in her. She was not the kind of person to attract attention of that sort. By now, she had made it obvious that his presence was not appreciated, so why was he sticking around?

"I'm not sure you know him; blonde, blue eyes?"


Feline-esque ears perked up atop her head and her breathing hitched. It felt like time had halted, suddenly stomping on worldly brakes; she had experienced the whiplash. Inwardly cursing the fact that she had dropped her stone-cold facade around this new presence, her eyes snapped shut. As they re-opened, she chomped down on the inside of her cheek in an attempt to prevent any sort of blushing that might occur.

She knew exactly who he was talking about. It was impossible. Well, perhaps not impossible. Improbable was most likely a better word choice. Did this guy associate with him? Perhaps she was looking into it too much. Maybe her mind was just so wrapped around this particular person that she had fit his face to the image projected by this twisted bastard.

Exhaling deeply, she scolded herself inwardly once more. There were plenty of men in the organization that had blond hair and blue eyes. Why would she automatically assume he was talking about him? Disappointed in herself, she tried to focus on the words on the page before her.

The vague description of a person was brought up in the format of a question. Due to her hitch in breathing, she felt obligated to give him some sort of an answer. Before she could manage to formulate words, he piped up once more.

"Who am I kidding? You probably don't know him. He's rather exclusive; doesn't freely hold conversation with people."

Katanai swallowed hard. There was no doubt left in her. He was definitely alluding to Tamaki.

Who was this guy? Why did he know Tamaki? Why would Tamaki not mention him to her if they were such good "friends?" She had to admit, the perpetrator now had her interest. If he was a friend of Tamaki's, perhaps he was not quite as annoying as she suspected him to be.

Lowering her book, she glanced up at him. In this gesture, she lessened the brutality of her glare ever so slightly. Until this person could provide more evidence for her of not being a nuisance, she would not be put at ease. For now, her guard was to be kept up.

"Tamaki...?"

Although her tone of voice and slightly quirked eyebrow made this statement a question, on the inside, she was trying to convince herself that this person was not associated with Tamaki in any way. It took effort for her to keep the thrill out of her voice as she muttered his name, ironing her vocal infliction so it stayed in smooth neutrality.

[xJaxx]

"Tamaki...?"

A crooked smirk emerged on Arata's lips. So he finally had her. All it took was mention of someone she was comfortable with, and he was in. Why hadn't he thought of it sooner? But still, he had to admit he was a genius.

"Yes," he purred, turning to lean his back against the cool glass of the window. "Well, actually, we're not as informal," he mused, turning his head to face her. "Ki-kun is what I refer to him as." Well, at least that's what he heard his sister call him when the duo assumed they were alone.

Stuffing his hands deep within the pockets of his trousers, he noted her slightly softened expression. For now, she wasn't glaring daggers into his soul from the safeguard of her book. Instead, she was looking at him, obviously interested. He definitely had her now.

"You seem almost skeptical of our friendship," he noted. He could tell in the way she ever-so-slightly quirked her eyebrow that she was somewhat disbelieving. Did she consider Tamaki out of his league? He almost scoffed at the thought. If anything, it was the other way around. The antisocial, flaxen haired man was no match for Arata's personality and charm.

"It seems unlikely, sure, but we were going through some hard times." He leaned heavily on the window, taking on a solemn facial expression that he had years to master. "As you probably know, he was forced out of medical school and brought into this crazy house by his father."

Arata was hoping he remembered the records accurately. During early hours in the morning, when he couldn't sleep, he'd sneak down into the organization's office and read files of people within the household. He read through at least half of the organization and hoped he retained what he read. And if he didn't, he was hoping Katanai wouldn't know enough to tell truth from lie.

"Considering he was new and how antisocial he was," he went on thoughtfully, "I took him under my wing. He was a miserable kid at first, but eventually he warmed up. I find it humorous how mischievous that kid really is under that stolid shell."

Shifting his weight onto his feet, he abruptly stood erect. "Ah, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to waste your time with my reminisce. I guess you're still waiting for me to leave, huh?"

Arata strode toward the door, hoping his calculations were accurate. If he had managed to hook her enough, she might even ask him to stay. Granted, he would possibly have to entertain her with more fictional insight of the flaxen haired nuisance, but if he could help it, he'd crush whatever opinion she had in favor of him into millions of pieces. And in the end, Tamaki would appear more and more inferior to him.

[Kitty]

"Yes,"

With that one simple word, Katanai's head was sent spinning. No. No way. This guy was actually a friend of Tamaki's? Why would Tamaki not mention him? This was so strange. The man before her at the moment seemed so pompous and arrogant. She exhaled. Perhaps she was misjudging this person. She hadn't really given him a fair chance to prove himself as anything other than an annoyance breaking into her room.

"Well, actually, we're not as informal. Ki-kun is what I refer to him as."

A small pain pricked at her chest. The only one that she knew of that would dare refer to Tamaki as anything other than his name was Tara, his younger sister. She always respected this practice of kinship within a nickname. However, this figure was apparently close enough to Tamaki to call him something so casual. Katanai felt a small sense of betrayal that she could not chase away. Somehow, she thought she really knew Tamaki. Apparently, she was mistaken.
"How foolish of me," she thought to herself while fighting back a sigh.

No. She couldn't be so deeply fooled. There was still the chance that this person was making everything up. Perhaps he was trying to get under her skin. All she had to really do was shake his words off. Katanai noted the fact that this was the first time anyone had succeeded so quickly in getting to her. Usually, she was rather patient with people she didn't particularly care for.

"You seem almost skeptical of our friendship,"

Of course she was skeptical. Why shouldn't she be? It wasn't typical that people should simply spill their life before a complete stranger. This man had no reason telling her all this information.

"As you probably know, he was forced out of medical school and brought into this crazy house by his father."

The corner of her mouth tugged downward in a small, tight frown. She knew that somehow, Tamaki had gone from medical school to Sasayaita Namida. She did not know the extent of his father's involvement. Being the kind of person who does not typically pry to find out hidden information, Katanai did not know too much about Tamaki's father. She knew more about his mother. That was something she and Tamaki had in common--the loss of a beloved one.

Considering how painful it was to lose his mother, Katanai did not bring up the subject often. Personal experience allowed her to understand that sometimes, the best way to fight pain is to find something less painful. She found his company calming and bemusing. His dry sense of humor mimicked her own, in a way. Somehow, she thought that their similarities and long-running conversations made them close.

"Considering he was new and how antisocial he was, I took him under my wing. He was a miserable kid at first, but eventually he warmed up. I find it humorous how mischievous that kid really is under that stolid shell."

Katanai was not sure how to respond to that kind of comment. "Miserable" was not the kind of word she would use to describe him. Nor was "mischievous." True enough, she entered the organization after Tamaki. Perhaps he was darker and more concealed before she came into the picture. She highly doubted that he would let an outsider see him as "miserable." His shell was solid and hard to penetrate. The way her smooth-worded company spoke, she was not sure whether or not she had begun to penetrate his shell at all.

"Ah, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to waste your time with my reminisce. I guess you're still waiting for me to leave, huh?"

"You never mentioned your name," she found herself saying sharply and suddenly. She truly didn't care what his name was; it was just a less helpless-sounding thing to say than 'wait.'

No. He was not excused just yet. Of course she did not want to spend any more time with this shady person than need be. Of course she would rather slam the door on that stupid grin of his. Of course she was sure that her sword would look lovely with the faint glisten of his blood illuminating the blade.

However, if he truly did know Tamaki, she wanted to learn. This was an opportunity to gain insight to Tamaki's past without drudging up painful memories for him. In the back of her mind, she held on to the notion that he may be bluffing. Perhaps he didn't really know Tamaki at all.

Ever since their first conversation, she had been on a subconscious quest to understand why the mention of his name made her heart beat faster. Tamaki became a source of happiness, assurance, and great confusion for her. No matter how slim the chances were that this "friend" of his could actually be of help, she would take it. With any luck and use of her instincts and intuition, she would hopefully come out on top in the end.

"You seem to picture Tamaki quite differently than I do," she said musingly, attempting to draw the conversation out of him. Truthfully, it did not seem like it would be a difficult task to get this guy to talk.

[xJaxx]

“You never mentioned your name,”Arata paused mid-step, trying to veil the smirk that tried so desperately to emerge. He wasn’t going show any signs of anxiousness. He was going to calmly play it off like he normally did. She was just another poor girl trapped in his web, and he had no need to feel excited.

“Tsutomu, Arata,” he responded as smoothly as he could manage. Charm would be his weapon of choice in this engagement. From experience, he was aware that women often lowered their guard when someone displayed courtesy, and also knew he could use all the help he could get to keep this kitten from pouncing.

“You seem to picture Tamaki quite differently than I do,”

So she wanted to hear more beside what Arata had already disclosed. The seemingly guarded women sprang directly into his trap only seconds after he laid it down. Curiosity really did kill the cat.

His hand begun to work swiftly, moving toward the knob of the door and quietly closed it behind him. There always seemed to be unwanted ears and eyes around the base, and he wasn’t taking the chance of having someone see him conversing with her. None of the personalities within the organization were particularly fond of him—either due to the fact they knew he victimized women or the possibility that they were just intimidated by his handsome appearance—and he knew better than to act when there could be the possibility of witnesses lurking.

“Time to make up more bullshit,” he thought to himself, leaning his back against the closed door. Tilting his head back ever-so-slightly, he listened momentarily for any signal of another presence lingering in the hallway.

“I guess it depends on what aspect you look at,” he replied once he was confident they were alone in the wing. “Someone who’s more intimate with Ki-kun—such as me for instance—may see a different side of him than someone less close to him.”

He paused thoughtfully, then sunk to his knees next to the door. After comfortably situating himself Indian-styled, he continued. “Then again, I have no right to judge your relationship with him. Perhaps you two are closer than I anticipated.” He shrugged. “He hasn’t mentioned anything about you though, so I just assumed you two were strangers.”

Arata could tell by the way her ears perked up at mention of Tamaki’s name that she was fond of him, and he was going to do everything in his power to sabotage their relationship. When he had his way, she’d be left with no choice but to crawl to him; and after a toying around with her for awhile, he’d completely destroy her.

[Kitty]

“Tsutomu, Arata,”

Katanai was unsure as to whether she should mention her own name or not. Something about this guy said that he already knew her name. It seemed like he was the kind of person to know everything about everyone. Perhaps he was one of the organization's spies. Although Katanai occasionally acted as a spy when need be, she was mainly an assassin. The only reason she was used to double as a spy was her cat-like nature; she was able to move quietly and gracefully. Going undetected was her specialty. Knowing her name was one thing. It was easy to put a name to a face in a place like this--especially since she was the only one with the features of a cat. It comforted her to know that there was no possible way that he could not know her past, her secrets, her power.

Her eyebrow arched skeptically as he shut the door of her room. There was something about being shut into her own room that bothered her a great deal. It was as if, in one single question, she had lost control of the world around her. This room was a symbol of her self-hood and privacy. Was it really the correct choice to allow this stranger in?

“I guess it depends on what aspect you look at,”[/i]

As he spoke, she watched his mouth move, examining him for any trace of falter. It was important that he tell the truth. To her, it was more important that he tell the truth now than when she asked him for his name. This was the only reason that she was allowing him into her world. She wanted information. Her goal was to know more about Tamaki.

“Someone who’s more intimate with Ki-kun—such as me for instance—may see a different side of him than someone less close to him.”

A small flame of defiance began to burn at her core. How was he to know how close or unfamiliar the two of them were? He was definitely implying that she was but a face in the crowd to him. Somehow, not only did this irritate her, but it brought a small pain to her heart. For quite some time now, she had considered Tamaki a reliable ally and the closest thing to a friend she had ever had. True enough, the two of them did not start off on such a good foot, but she figured that they mutually got past the rough patch of distrust and irritation they had started off in.

Before she could think of a way to politely reject his statement, she watched him sink into a sitting position on the ground. Inwardly, she was glad that he did not attempt to sit any closer to her. He still gave her the creeps. Strangely enough, he seemed to read her mind in a sort of way.

“Then again, I have no right to judge your relationship with him. Perhaps you two are closer than I anticipated.”

Somehow, that small statement put her slightly at ease. She couldn't help but think that he was mocking her in one way or another. She hated that.

“He hasn’t mentioned anything about you though, so I just assumed you two were strangers.”

Once again, her heart sank. It was as if he was leading her through an inner roller coaster of hope and crushing despair. So he hadn't mentioned her... If the two of them were somehow as close as he let on, she would have hoped to be mentioned in conversation at least once--even if it was to say that the two of them went on a mission together.

Being two of the organization's stronger assassins, Katanai and Tamaki were often paired up for missions. That was how she got to know him as more than the bastard that he had at first appeared to be. This man was somehow beginning to seem less and less believable. He was trying to toy with her. There was no question about it. If Arata was such good friends with Tamaki, he would have at least known that the two of them were frequent mission partners.

"Is that so," she mused, pretending to accept his statement, even with a hint of (more or less) feigned disappointment.

"How would a closer friend of Tamaki's view him, then?" she dared ask.

[xJaxx]

“Is that so,”

Arata nodded solemnly in response. Of course he was being truthful. Well, as far as she was aware, he was.

“How would a closer friend of Tamaki’s view him then?”

He paused to think. “Well, how could I put it bluntly…?” he murmured to himself. “In all actuality, he’s like a little kid.” He reclined back, resting his back against the door. before continuing. “He prefers solitude because he’s afraid of people.”

Perhaps it was just Arata’s bitterness toward Tamaki, but that’s how he saw him. The blond haired man was nothing more than a frightened child who had no mommy to run to. So, in turn, he just stayed away from everyone to safeguard himself. He wasn’t “cold” or “stoic” he was simply cowardly.

“But it seems that people who aren’t intimate with him see him in a more…heroic light, isn’t that right?” He often heard words of praise surrounding Tamaki, and quite frankly, it sickened him. Everyone saw him as a big deal, yet there was nothing spectacular about him. He was just a kid who learned how to run around with a sword.

Arata rose to his feet, and with a few strides, made his way over to the feline-like woman. “You must see him as one of the strongest, most handsome assassins, right?” His lips twitched into a soft crooked smirk as he awaited her response. Women were so simple-minded that it often only took a sweeping generalization to figure them out.

“You know,” he continued, lifting a lock of her hair once he was in range, “Tamaki finds his fangirls rather troublesome.” He turned over the tress in his fingertips, inspecting the hues of silver. “But there is one trait he finds intriguing in a female…” Dropping his voice to a whisper, he continued. “I could let you in on it for a small price...”

With any luck, he would have perked her interest. And with any luck, he'd be able to control her strings. If she was naive enough, she'd be her own demise. and he'd come out on top without having to break a sweat.

[Kitty]

“Well, how could I put it bluntly…?”

Katanai's eyebrow quirked upward. "Hn?" As usual, she was less than amused. This encounter was similar to a game of chess--strategies exchanged back and forth. At the moment, she was playing the role of an easy target. Soon enough, she would strike back. First, she had to uncover his strategy and salvage any valuable information she happened upon along the way. She sat up, folding her arms across her chest.

“In all actuality, he’s like a little kid.”

Of all the things Arata had said thus far, this was one of the more ridiculous notions. A "little kid?" She had never met a "little kid" who could so easily attack and defend against murderers and spies. Through her nose, she exhaled. She needed to cool off a bit. Why was she getting this defensive, anyway? Regardless, he owed quite the explanation if he wanted her to even consider this as a possibility.

“He prefers solitude because he’s afraid of people.”

In her mind, she turned the words over, taking them in carefully and thoughtfully. This was actually a point that she had not thought of. Perhaps she was being narrow-minded to rule out a possibility such as this. For all she knew, Tamaki's reasoning for joining Sasayaita Namida was to use his inner power to conquer his fear.

This got her thinking. Perhaps the comment did not only hold true for Tamaki. Was she afraid of people? It was a strange feeling--a single moment of self-discovery. Was that why she was so cold ever since her parents' passing? They all scorned her for her demonic attributes, wished her to fail, and eventually, drove her to become the monster they had all feared in the first place.

With that train of thought, she allowed a frown to cross her face. The clients who would see her when they would go to speak business with her father would look at her, commenting to the side on what a monster she was. Truth be told, as a child, she was perfectly harmless. She was timid and ashamed of herself. Her parents allowed her to learn the ways of the sword as a sort of classic stress relief. They would most likely be rolling over in their graves, knowing all the blood that the clan's heirloom blade had tasted over the last few years or so.

Before she could dig herself deeper into thought or think of an adequate reply to his previous comment, Arata's silken voice reminded her of the game she was presently engaged in.

“But it seems that people who aren’t intimate with him see him in a more…heroic light, isn’t that right?”

A thoughtful light draped over her features. "Perhaps," she began musingly. In the many missions the had been on together, they had salvaged each others' bodies from certain damage quite a few times. Technically, she had been the first one to play the role of hero. Ever since, he had continued to repay the favor with gestures of heroism. "Though," she added after a considerate pause, "No one in this organization can fit the true definition of a 'hero,'" she pointed out flatly. Their job was to take lives when told to do so.

“You must see him as one of the strongest, most handsome assassins, right?”

Her eyes focused on him as he stood up and began to walk over to her, a malice-filled smirk playing on his lips. "Perhaps it's jealousy," she thought to herself. In an organization such as Sasayaita Namida, the role of an assassin may appear to be more "glamorous" than that of a spy. Since she played both parts, she had never really thought of such a thing before. The thought seemed petty, but the way he was smirking, it did not seem altogether unlikely.

"I'm not sure," she admitted honestly, meeting his eyes with a tone of seriousness. Figuring out her feeling for Tamaki was something she had not done quite yet. Between missions and training, fitting in time for such trivial personal matters was troublesome and not really worth worrying too much about. At this very moment, she wished that she had everything figured out.

Her body tensed as he got closer to her, ears pinning back slightly. Cat-like instinct began to kick in. Tail flicking behind her in a disapproving manner, she continued to meet his eyes with a serious look. She had already allowed Arata to temporarily break the sacred boundary that was her room. Now, he was getting far too close for comfort.

“You know, Tamaki finds his fangirls rather troublesome.”

Time seemed to freeze in a moment of discomfort, mixed with undertones of frustration and hurt. Who was he calling a "fan girl?" What did that even mean? It was a simple fact that Tamaki was physically appealing. She had not previously taken such into consideration, but perhaps with such intriguing features, he attracted a lot of female attention. The thought of mistakenly appearing to be a face in a crowd of other women who took interest in him made her feel shattered and ignorant. Eyes fixed on the lock of hair Arata had between his fingers, she decided to not respond.

“But there is one trait he finds intriguing in a female…”

Foolish. It was foolish of her to be so intrigued by such a degrading comment. She was by no means simple-minded. Things such as intimate relationships had not crossed her mind since childhood. Back then, in the form of a dream, she dared to imagine a handsome prince coming to her balcony late at night, ridding her of her troubling features with a single kiss. When she rose the next morning, still her repelling self, she noted that girlish fairy tales such as "true love" could never exist for her. After shedding a few selfish tears, she accepted that as fact.

Now, twenty-one years into her life, a man stood with a lock of her hair trapped between his fingers. It both insulted and baffled her that he would bring up something like this. At first, she had not understood, but it finally clicked. He was accusing her of being romantically interested in her mission partner, Tamaki. Somehow, whether it be through trickery or simple curiosity, Arata was becoming harder and harder to simply brush off. Perhaps curiosity really does kill the cat. She exhaled silently through her nose once more, choosing to not speak up.

“I could let you in on it for a small price...”

This was a trap. She could feel how much of a trap it was. The bad vibes that Arata had been giving off since he first set foot in her room had accumulated up to this point. However, her curiosity was really getting to her. She decided that as long as she was aware that this was a trap, there was little or no danger. It was the only way she could figure out his strategy. This was her game.

"And what would that price be?" Her voice never raised above her typical murmur. "Your move," she mused to herself.

[xJaxx]

Each combination of words he chose seemed to string her along further and further until she was all tied up. Who knew cats were so easily tamed? When he first met her, her eyes stared daggers into his soul, like a tiger waiting to ambush its prey. Now, she seemed more drawn in, vulnerable, like a sterile kitten being brought into new surroundings. She was in his court now.

“Perhaps.”

So his words were finally sinking in. With every word he spoke, he could just imagine the gears turning and shifting in her mind. It was like a sudden epiphany that took years to realize finally setting in. He had her now.

“Though, no one in this organization can fit the true definition of a hero.”

Arata paused briefly. ‘Just another way of defending herself,’ he thought to himself. But then again, she was half right. There was no way assassins or spies could be considered heroes. If anything, they were the complete opposite; a bunch falling into the definition of villains, devils, monsters. Yet he couldn’t help but get the impression that peers often saw other members of the organization as ‘heroes’ in some light, and maybe he hit the nail on the head with her.
He went on, not giving much thought to her silence. To him, it was a welcoming response. After all, girls were known to put up as much as a front as they could to defend themselves. Hell, he became too familiar with the women who would argue even if they were completely wrong. It’s just how they were; weak, fragile beings who puffed themselves up in an act of self-defense. Completely worthless beings, really.

But then again, toying with them gave him great pleasure. He loved seeing them squirm and crack under pressure, and then eventually cry from their feelings being hurt. Maybe that’s why he victimized Katanai so much. She was harder to crack, one of the rare breeds of women who were independent, and ‘strong’. But that made the prize all the more welcoming. He wanted to see a tough girl break. He wanted to see her cry. And most importantly, he wanted to be the cause of it.

“And what would that price be?”

He smirked. So she finally fell in. He never expected it to be so easy. Then again, she was not what he expected.
Tightening his grip on her hair, he tugged her head closer. “Well, I suppose I worded it oddly. Price makes it seem much less…beneficial to you, does it not.” He looked down at her, eyes scrutinizing hers. “How about I rephrase it this way: Tamaki is an overly jealous type, so the one trait he finds intriguing in a women, is being taken; if you would call it a trait.” He paused thoughtfully before continuing. “Now if he sees you being intimate with someone close to him—me—” He bent down, allowing his lips to briefly caress the strand of hair he held hostage. “—then he’d surely want you to be his.”

He allowed a smirk to cross his lips before releasing her hair and straightening his posture. “Now, if you’re really as interested in Tamaki as you seem, you’ll meet me tomorrow out in the garden. He’ll be sure to see.” He made his way to the door, pausing briefly before he opened it. “But if you choose not to come, then maybe I may just have to tell him what you truly think of him.”

With that, he strode out of her room and disappeared down the hall.

[Kitty]

It was hard not to switch into attack mode with him pulling her closer by the strand he had been holding onto. The sudden yank on her hair was not as painful as it was demeaning. She swallowed back the growl that threatened to escape her throat as she looked up at him, obviously not happy with his sudden motion.

“Well, I suppose I worded it oddly. Price makes it seem much less…beneficial to you, does it not.”

Katanai kept her poker face, staring into his scrutinizing gaze with solid eyes. "Call it what you will," she said dismissively, "It matters not to me."

“How about I rephrase it this way: Tamaki is an overly jealous type, so the one trait he finds intriguing in a women, is being taken; if you would call it a trait.”

A slight frown tugged at the corner of her mouth. This was all so absurd. What sort of twist did Arata wish to impart on their little game? This was turning into something other than a (more or less) friendly match of mental chess. Instead of speaking out in her frustration, she waited for him to continue. It was obvious that he had more on his mind.

“Now if he sees you being intimate with someone close to him—me—”

Biting her tongue to hold back the scoff that long to escape her lips, she watched in slight horror and pure shock as his lips touched her hair. Well, she would definitely be taking another shower later tonight--if for no other reason than to wash the memory of his lips off her hair.

“—then he’d surely want you to be his.”

Was this his plan? To ask for her hand in courtship? What a strange man he was. Certainly, he had an ulterior motive. What benefit could he possibly have to gain from "dating" the likes of her? A dark, sad smirk lifted her features ever so slightly.

"I believe I may see a slight flaw in your plan, Arata-san," she mused aloud. His flaw was very obvious. Misarashi Katanai was not the type of woman that men got jealous over, let alone fought over. It was obvious, in her opinion, that Tamaki could not care less if she decided to engage in any sort of courtship. Her opponent did not seem to notice her comment, but she bothered to add, "Though, I would be a liar to say that it does not intrigue me."

“Now, if you’re really as interested in Tamaki as you seem, you’ll meet me tomorrow out in the garden. He’ll be sure to see.”

The best part about this moment was that he was finally leaving her to herself. As his back turned to her for the briefest of moments, she rolled her eyes. As if she would waste her time to continue this game tomorrow--and in public, nonetheless. She had no interest in pushing this any further.

“But if you choose not to come, then maybe I may just have to tell him what you truly think of him.”

So he had a final blow after all. Katanai felt the impact of the hit as if it were something physical. She heard his soft tread down the hallway. The opponent was close to capturing her king piece in the game. "Check," she murmured when she was sure his ears were far enough away.

"Arata-san is a better player in this strange, impromptu game than I originally imagined him to be," she thought begrudgingly to herself. Even with her eyes and ears open, she managed to stumble into one of his traps. Now, she was obligated to make an appearance in the garden. If not, this man would create a lie as beautiful and intricate as a freshly woven web.

"A garden is a suitable place for spiders," she thought, laying back on her bed and turning her head to look out the window. The reflection she saw of herself in the window's glass was pathetic. The foolish girl's eyes were narrowed and appeared worn out, like stagnant pools of blood. "Spiders are easier prey than mice," she reminded herself in a voice lower than a whisper before closing her eyes, using the darkness of her dreams as a blanket.