Teen Titans Fan Fiction ❯ Memories of the Kuro Battousai ❯ Commerance ( Chapter 1 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

I ambled my way through the woods, pushing away trees and other foliage out of my way. I was quiet, very quiet. An assassin had to be, or else all of my training would have been for naught. The ruffles of leaves were soft enough to dupe anyone into presuming that it was a mere breeze coming off from the atmosphere. There was no sound of cracklings under my feet, they were graceful and wary enough not to idiotically step on a twig or dry leaves like normal people would unconsciously. Were it not for my hair, I could probably be mistaken as a shadow—luckily my hat on the top of my head was dyed black so it covered most of messy locks and gave my the look of a merely silhouette that was laid out by the trees.

My mind continued to replay the very memory of my first meeting with my boss, Maximillion Pegasus. The very memory was burned in my mind like the hottest metal touched to human flesh.

--

Flashback/Odelia'sP.O.V.

I sat alone with Pegasus in his elongated dinning room. I sat at one end of his extensive table while he sat far away on the other.

Above the gigantic entrance of the dining room were two portraits: one picture had a strange man with tan skin, piercing blue eyes, and a white turbine on the top of the man's head. The man was probably from Egypt or Afghanistan, but it was obvious he was of Arabic bloodline. His eyes, indeed, were the most interesting asset though—for not only were they blue, but also lifeless and knife-like. They were the soulless bullets in a gun when the user would tug on its trigger, to travel straight and onwards no matter who or what was in the way—whether they living innocents or ferocious beasts.

The other portrait was dyed in the form of a beautiful woman with charming blue eyes, golden curls for hair, the fairest of skin, and a gorgeous—yet small—smile spread across her face. It was her I was most interested in gazing, for she had sparked something deep in the impoundments of my mentality. Angelic as she was, I recalled someone who

“I heard of your family, Miss Odelia,” Pegasus-san said after his sip of tea, taking my mind and eyes away from the paintings and directly at him, “Your father was the descendent of Kenshin Himura, or some say the Hitokiri Battousai, the famous assassin whom legends say he ended the revolution and brought to life the Meji Era. Your mother was Midnight Blackwing, a maiden of Azawreth, an alter dimension of whom used the magic of the mind to make their world one of peace, intelligence, and prosperity.”

Our eyes continued their interlocked staring. I looked at him acidly, for I disliked having my personal life—or what was once my personal life—being discussed in terms of business. He, however, gave a very contemplative gaze towards my direction.

`How would he have known all of that?' I continued wondering that while I looked down at my tea—a strange light brown liquid that was steaming, and yet it tasted vile and bitter to my taste buds.

“Hmm.....”

He stared at me with interest for a long, quiet while; it petrified me. That brown eye slowly staring into mine, as if penetrating all defenses to reach its treasure—still mulling over my thoughts and memories, like if they were a guessing game.

But after the long silence, Pegasus finally spoke:

“So, your mother was born first... The woman who gave birth to her was brutally raped by a demon,” he continued.

“Such a shame...” Those three words continued reiterating on and on and on in my head. The more I heard those words persist, the more I began hotter I felt. My fists began to clench tightly that I heard my knuckles crack. My blood was blistering, and my hands were ghastly white and were seeping blood from my fingernails embedding into the skin of my palms. I began seeing scarlet, like a sudden, deeply impassioned lust was coming over my entire body. I ached for his neck to be inside my clutches, so I would I garrote him and tear my talons into his pale flesh until his body was nothing more but bloody ground meat.

“THAT'S MY BUESNESS!” I heard myself screech; slamming my fist onto the table, causing Pegasus cup of tea to turn black and explode, “HOW THE FUCK DO YOU KNOW SO MUCH ABOUT ME?! TALK NOW OR DIE!”

He just gave a sick chuckle, not the least bit demoralized with his cup was now shards. “I know everything about you, Odelia. With both the Battousai's and Azawreth blood, you are immortal... and out for revenge. And how do I know so much you ask?

“I know so much because I own a Millennium Item. Do you know what they are?” He asked me.

“A Millennium Item?” I said blinking, `What the hell is that? I never heard of such trinkets!'

I shook my head no, speculating what strange powers these items could have, if they were more powerful then any magical objects Azawreth had ever crafted or obtained.

He pulled away some of his silvery white hair that covered his eyes to reveal... I drew breath.

A golden eye had substituted for his real eye!

“I own the Millennium Eye, my dear. And these magical objects are not `mere trinkets' as you believe, Odelia Azarea Himura.” Pegasus began to explain,

“Five thousand years ago, the Egyptians created a powerful game known as the Shadow Games. This game was about the use of black magic to summon monsters, traps, and magic from another dimension known as the Shadow Realm. Unfortunately, the Egyptians could not control the shadow powers. So the brave Pharaoh and his six priests sacrificed their very lives to seal the darkness within seven items; a puzzle, a dagger, a scale, a ring, a necklace, a key, and my Eye.”

It was all extremely hard to comprehend, and yet it sounded both interesting and stimulating to hear such a narration. I couldn't get a handle on whether his facts were actually true—or whether he was trying to distract my resentment with silly fairytales for my brain to ponder senselessly until I had a migraine. Whether legitimacy or tall tales, though, I was completely confounded by the reality that this man sitting before me had actually rid himself of half of his sight for a piece of gold jewelry. My only response that I was able to muster was succinct and rather unintelligible, “…Sugoi...”

He only gave another chuckle.

“I knew you would say that,” He mused sadistically.

I frowned bitterly, my irritation persisting again in the form of a furious headache and a hammering cardiac. He continued ogling at me; more or less likely scrutinizing for next notion that was to materialize in my psyche. It was beyond a doubt that he was pissing me off, for he seemed to enjoy scrutinizing my cranium for any possible notion that was to materialize in the psyche, like some fucking HP printer! My hands stealthily reached for my katana and fingers were writhing around the hilt with bloody temptation. Pegasus spoke again—

“I have a special job for you…” He said, changing the subject so suddenly, “Do you know a young lad about your age named Seto Kaiba?” Pegasus asked and handed me a photo of him.

I glanced at Pegasus dully, never looking at the photo. Now was he insulting me intellect?—or was this some sort of fucked up Trivia Pursuit?

“I've heard of him before—everyone's heard of him before. He's one of the greatest gamers in the world! Do you take me as some insolent hermit?! I know what goes on in this world just fine like any other man—I watch the news you know!”

When I was finished with the insulted, angry exclaim, I unsheathed katana and proceeded in cleaning it with a white cloth. With a bothered and acidic mutter, I began to inquire, “And what about him?”

“It's simple really: I need you to get rid of him... or just lead him to me and I'll take care of him.” He answered with an evil leer.

I stared at him coldly, but deep down I was absolutely nauseated by his hellish and giddy sneer. In truth, I wanted to puke in disgust!—But I remained unruffled and my voice went cold. “Mamayo.”

I put my sword away and headed off with no more words to converse to this madman, but a nonchalant wave.

--

It was at that moment when I closed the door that peculiar voices began oozing into my eardrums. Now I admit, being an assassin and a half-breed did not come with its perquisites—such as Herculean wits and body functions, which are necessitate if one ever hopes of stalking prey without notice, going in for the kill, and then getting the hell out of the mess without exposure and incarceration by the law.

In this case, it may have been extremely necessary to rely on my acute audible range.

“Should we trust that little hell spawn?” I heard one of them mutter acerbically, “What if she back to finish us off?! You've seen what her powers can do!”

I could already feel my fingers straining with want. They famine for the savor of the scarlet life fluid that ran through the human body… my whole body wanted the taste. This sensation would always approach with the initiation my wrath, this carnal urge which its sparks the flames of my blood from my forbidden and forsaken lineage.

“Gentlemen, her name is Odelia and I've taken special precautions if our little agreement turns sour. But from what I've seen in her character, she'll wouldn't give the least bit of care so long as she gets paid her bill without any objections from her hirer. She is not the one to betray—so long as she is not betrayed, my friends,” he mused calmly.

My blood, as blazing hot as it was, suddenly went frigid in a split second. I suddenly felt, a little upbeat from my host's words for the very first time—like if he was actually shielding my dignity

“But what if—?”

But before I could hear what else they had to say, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned and saw one of Pegasus's guards behind me. And to my unfortunate luck, it was Kemo—the fucking chikan who's been sexually harassing me since my arrival on the island.

“Well, well, well,” The kusotare chirped in a cocky, joyful voice, “If it isn't the Kuro Hitokiri Battousai! It isn't very lady-like to be eavesdropping on your employers. You could get fired and would have to work for the rest as your life as some prostitute, and you be giving men like me some sex.”

I glared at him with disgust, he was like so many of the men I had came across during most of my life for the past 4 years, when puberty hit me---hard. And I always treated each and every pervert I come across the same: “Oi, the next time you have sex with some prostitute in the bathroom,” I mumbled darkly, “I hope you slip on a piece shit and crack your head on the toilet seat. Then, I pray to kami somebody flushes your brains down the toilet.”

But the perv made a fake expression across his face of a broken heart. “Aw, how can you be so cruel?”

But I glared at him and pushed him aside. I walked on a little bit and then stopped and turned towards Kemo.
I called to him, my cruelty intact, “Simple. I hate you and I hate people just like you. I hope you burn in hell someday!”

And with those final words, I turned away from the bodyguard and walked away.

--

Since the main entrance was for duelists only, I was forced into departing via the lengthier way. In other words, I had to walk down that shadowy, freezing, and rather complex catacomb-like labyrinth which wasted too much amount of my fucking time that would have been more useful in hunting down the CEO. It was tournament procedure—and I wasn't even a part of this motherfucking competition! It left me searing in anger and I even had the strong yearning to act on impulse and later force that bastard to raise my paycheck ten-fold once I returned with Kaiba's head, fibbing that it was for “overtime.”

My fury was still sizzling in my mentality when I suddenly heard the sound of metal jingling so gently… like wind chimes in a breeze. When I scouted the area, I saw nothing. I merely mused this over as the sound of one of the guards clanging his keys at a distance and continued to walk away. It was only until I heard the noise again, this time greater in volume, when I stopped and began to sweat. I've been walking that dungeon for so long, and had yet to spot a single jailbird or whatever remained of an already short-lived detainee. I merely mused that this dungeon was here ages ago, that this castle was many years old—maybe existed during medieval times or something. Sure, this deduction was a little far-fetched, but maybe I just wanted to lie to myself in case if I had to contend with a supernatural intervention. The loud clinking of chains made me think of a wrathful ghost… how he died was something I would rather not find out. I wanted to run away—get the damn job done and run away from this crazy isle. This man, Pegasus, is too insane, too calculating, and much too powerful for me to put up with—I just had to get as far away from him as I physically could if I wanted to save my common sense!

I did start to run—I dashed as far as I could. I didn't wanna stay and see this tortured soul Pegasus had in chains, not at all. Getting off this island was all I could think about. And then, I heard the sniffling of a child…

I turned into stone. Had there been an underage captive forsaken in these caverns until his judgment day? Or maybe… maybe…?

“Shit!” I muttered between my teeth, “Would he really—?!”

I sprinted down to the noise of the young kid. The weakened sobs became louder and louder—but not by much. The child was either dying or trying to restrain his or her emotions. I prayed that it was the latter. When I finally stopped to discover its source, I gasped in surprise. “N-na-nani?!”

There I found the tiny child—a mere boy about twelve or so. He was dressed like a normal teen—a red sweater with stripped sleeves, jeans, and sneakers. I was beyond appalled—His arms hung lifelessly on the ground, wrist bound to the wall with shackles and chains while his ankles were twisted by the heavy iron balls and manacles. I wanted to lash out at anyone who dared commit such a sinful act...

Instead, I restrained. “Oi, boyo!” I cautiously approached his cage and gazed inquiringly at his small, doll-like frame. “Are you awake?”

I heard him stir as he lifted his head a glimpse at me lazily with heavy, glazed eyes. He was obviously asleep, and I was relieved. “Konichuwa, shonen, doushitan?”

The boy startled and his body jerked a bit. Was the first he heard someone speak to him in a long time? He stared at me, puzzled. “Huh?” The little child uttered weakly. “Who—Who are you?”

I gestured no harm as I gently placed my hand over my chest. “My name is Odelia Azarea Himura. I mean you no harm.” I continued motioning to him that I was no foe. “And yes,” I quickly pointed out, “I am talking to you.” I looked around, clearly referring to the dark, dismal landscape as I gestured a merely swinging of me finger. “This is not a place where someone who has only seen so few of winters and sufferings should be lingering… What has brought one so young and pure to be bound in a hellish setting such as this?”

The kid's eyes had cleared as he lashed out at me in frustration. “That creep Pegasus kidnapped me!” He barked in childish aggravation, “And he's trying to kill my brother and take over his company!”

A bit surprised from his violence, I smiled in satisfaction that this child still had the stamina and stubbornness of any rash pre-teen—that was a sheer sign that he wasn't broken.

“Now I have no clue where he is now but I know he'll come rescuing me very soon! I just know he will!” He exclaimed confidently.

I chuckled warmly and smiled. Far too many years have passed since I felt so impressed with so warm a heart. It was far into my childhood when I last laughed so happily—days when I lived with my family and was not called the Kuro Hitokiri Battousai. Oh, how I missed those wonderful days.

“Boyo,” I called to him again, “May I ask for your name?” He blinked a bit in surprise... I guess he wasn't use to formalities during his stay on the island. “Mokuba…” He uttered, “It's Mokuba.”

“Mokuba…” I repeated sweetly, my smile growing just a tad bit wider. I reached deep into my kimono, feeling around for some of my provisions, and pulled out a small box. When I opened the box, it revealed a small bentou, mostly of onigiri. I didn't eat very often, and if I did—it be in small amounts. I figured starving would become one of my punishments for living. “Nee, Mokuba-kun.” I slipped my bento through the bars and placed it on the floor. Then I gently pushed it… far enough to reach Mokuba without spilling anything. He carefully placed his hands around the sides of the package and laid it across his lap. He clasped one of the grainy orbs as he looked back up to me with grateful eyes. “Thank you...” He said meekly, as he gobbled up the rice ball.

“You're welcome.” I watched him eat like a happy little pig, smiling along with him. There was a time when I like him, happy and without a care int the world—or table manners for that matter… A time long past.

When I realized that fact, I felt my heart grow sad again, the warmth and love slowly sap away into oblivion. I felt myself crying freezing tears from the inside.

“Aruaru Mokuba-kun,” I muttered weakly, using the last bit of my joy to put up a happy front. “Your name means `wooden horse' where my people speak. The name suits you as I can easily tell you're a stubborn one—just like a horse.” I gave a fake chuckle and he joined in my merriment. “I may not know you're brother,” I uttered tenderly, “But I can probably tell he's just as stubborn as thee. He'll come, Mokuba-kun, and he'll get you out and bring you home safe and sound—I promise.”

I stood up and turned away—bearing the boy one final, meaningful glance. “Jan ne!” I said with a tiny wave, trying to look cute. I looked away and walked on—it broke my heart to leave him… but I had to—I had a job, and I know I can't be near someone as pure as him.

“Wait!” I suddenly heard him cry out. His voice made me freeze in my tracks. Sure, he wasn't with any sort of magical, telekinetic, or otherwise unnatural powers—but his voice certainly did have some sort of control of my heart. I worried for him so that he could do this thing to me.

I turned my head a little in his direction, indicating I was open ears. “Nandatte?”

“You look… a lot like my brother. You're nice to me and look at me like he does. You almost have the same eyes as his.” He suddenly paused it was a rather awkward one too. It took a little while before he spoke again, this time in shaky words “Did anyone tell you… That you look really pretty when you smile and laugh…?” The comment surprised me a bit and I shot my head back towards Mokuba, letting my eyes peer pack into him. Off a distance, I could tell a faint blush had blessed his pale cheeks as he tried to pretend they were just signs of a rash or a fever. “Um… anyways…. Uh… Sssss---See ya!”

A small blush crept on my cheeks. Never had someone called me “pretty” since the days of my youth. All I was ever seen for now was a instant concubine or hooker by the lustful perverted pigs that lusted and ogled over only my breasts and everything below it—despite the fact I was underage. The fact that someone complimented something not used for lewd intentions such really did make me happy. “U—un! Sa—Sa—Sayonara!” I briskly paced off, no more words to give to the young kid.

I didn't have much time to ponder over his words, a dark voice crept my mind, stopping me in my tracks. `If only he knew what you really are, my dear.' The dark voice muttered into my brain. `I wonder if he would still think you were very pretty… Heh heh heh…'

I sighed depressingly and stopped. Bittersweet tears flowed through my eyes as I clasped my heart… now shriveled and broken again. “Just like his brother…?” I sobbed darkly. “No, I am not his brother… his brother isn't a demon, Mokuba isn't a demon. He isn't some hellish monster… I am nothing like them…”

“No,” I said to myself, “This is the last time I'll ever see Mokuba.”

I left, my tears shriveling into the oblivion.

--

End of P.O.V./Flashback

The sound of screeching and monstrous roars woke her from her reveries.

`Some kids must be playing Duel Monsters,' Odelia thought.

The Kuro Battousai crept closer while the voices grew louder. She had gotten close enough to see who was dueling: one was a young male with wild blonde hair and a green jacket, who was kneeling on the ground with the spiteful face of impending defeat. She also saw another young guy wearing a fancy, blue jacket with neatly smoothed and slicked brunet hair, laughing mockingly at the shameful lad.

“Joey, kneel like the puppy dog that you are!” the second boy laughed.

Odelia turned his attention towards the second man, her eyes leered at him like a panther ready to strike her prey and devour it.

--

“Seto Kaiba,” She spoke cryptically, “Take to heart and enjoy what time you have left of this game…They'll be your last...'

--

To Be Continued...

Kris1rad: And I like to give Kokuryu some credit for writing this story with me. And the comment about Kemo slipping on some crap, busting his head open, and having his brains flushed down the toilet isn't mine. That idea was from Episode 63 of Neurotically Yours: “E-mail Malady.”

 

Update: This has been TOTALLY rewritten and stuff. I like this version so much better because it expresses the in-depth of Odelia's emotions more.

Glossary:

Kuro-black

San-this is used to respect of other people (Like elders) or also known like “Mr.” or “Mrs.”

Sugoi—Amazing

Mamayo—Whatever, I don't care, To hell with it
Chikan-pervert/molester/masher

Kusotare-bastard/shithead

Kami—God

Konichuwa--Hello

Shonen—young boy/teen boy

Doushitan—What's the matter? What's wrong?

Boyo—Boy

Bentou—Boxed Lunch

Onigiri—Rice Ball(s)

Aruaru—Don't worry

-kun—a suffix used for younger boys

Ja Ne—See ya!

Nandatte—What? Come again?

Sayonara—See you later/Good bye

 

Note: I DO NOT OWN RK, TT,YGO,THE SONGS, OR ANYTHING ELSE OF THIS STORY WITH COPYRIGHT!!! Only thisactuallystory—made for fun and will have no profitable distributions—and all of its plot and OC's are mine.