Served Cold

Act 1
Rainy skies.

Bright lights.

Burning storms.

These are what would make up the day for one lone individual, calmly walking down the packed community that composed the Kabuki District, the "town that never sleeps" as he had once heard it called. It was a stark contrast to the other parts of the Rukongai he'd been too, comparable to a noire era Boston instead of the slum-like makeup of the other districts. The rain was a nice touch as well, helping to illuminate the neon lights of the various restaurant and hotel signs that ran parallel to each other along his path. His hat blocked any rain from hitting his head, and his cloak covered the entirety of his body from the neck down, presumably to keep him warm, if he desired such a thing to begin with. His mouth was formed into that of a calm smile, a fairly long lit cigar stuck out of it's right corner and trailed smoke for a couple of feet behind him. Thanks to the weather and his attire, few people were able to get a good look at his face, much more of a blessing for them rather than himself in his mind; few could look upon his facial features without having a loud and annoying reaction, drawing unnecessary attention to him. He had to admit though, it was surprising that no one did notice his face considering the large crowd that he was having to navigate through, but perhaps they were so caught up in their own affairs or simply getting out of the storm to notice.

"Please"... a voice whispered in his mind as he continued through the gradually diminishing crowd. "Bring to an end the horror..." it continued as he sighed, a trail of burning ash falling from the edge of his cigar. This lone voice turned into multiple as he went on, all of them echoing the same, if not similar words and requests towards him, all calling for the head of the same individual: Seireitou Kawahiru. Of all the people he'd been contracted to kill, Seireitou Kawahiru was the one that had been called for the most, and it was also the one that he'd put off more than any other contract before. Was he afraid of the legendary "Silver-Haired Demon's" power? Naturally. Even for one such as he, the thought of killing Seireitou seemed far too out of reach, too much work involved, if the task could be done at all. Eventually, however, Seireitou became the only person that people would ask for him to kill, and he had to do work to keep himself alive and breathing. "Imagine all those souls that you'd get in return..." he'd told himself prior to making this trip. "Imagine if-"

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a loud, metal banging noise, followed immediately by a feminine yelp of pain. He noticed that he had successfully traversed through the crowds and was standing next to an alleyway between two buildings. Within this alleyway, he could see a dumpster, and next to it, three male figures standing over a curled up half-naked woman. Two of them had their backs facing him, while the third was quickly straddling the helpless woman, like an animal descending on it's harmless kill. She'd been beaten, tossed around and into the side of the dumpster, and her clothing had been ripped right off of her and thrown to the side, leaving her fully exposed to the cold rain above and the filthy mud below. His smile turned into a frown as his cigar came close to nearly dimming out, watching the two men laugh and cheer the third one on as he flipped the girl onto her back and began to remove his pants, much to her tearful dismay. To see a young woman like that treated so mercilessly in such terrible conditions made him want to wretch. He didn't want to draw attention to himself, but he wasn't about to let a lady be handled by animals.

He took his small but still lit cigar from his mouth and bit his bottom lip, fully exposing his top row of teeth. A loud whistle shot out from between the gaps of his buck-teeth, immediately catching the attention of the two standing men who had previously been facing away from him. Once the man on the right had fully turned to look at him, he flicked the still burning cigar straight towards the thug. The poor fool had left his mouth open just enough for the cigar to fly straight into it and hit his throat, burning it and sending the sour-tasting smoke down his jugular. Because of this, he wasn't able to scream in pain, only grasping his throat helplessly and staggering backwards and onto the ground, desperately clenching his neck as if to squeeze the foreign object out of his system. This obviously caught the attention of the other two men, both of them looking up to set their eyes on the newly arrived stranger, and so the latter now had clear shots. There was a flash of fire following the shock of the last move, originating from the small gap between the stranger's cloak, followed by a thunderous roar. These would register for the two men for only half a second, before the one assaulting the woman would feel a metallic object cut cleanly into his collar bone and explode out of his upper back. This caused him to yelp briefly in pain, his upper chest damaged too much for him to emit anything louder, before falling on his back and off of his object of desire.

The other standing man, shocked and confused, began to run away from the stranger, hoping to get some distance between himself and the attacker. He wondered what sort of sorcery the stranger had used to so quickly take down his comrades, but he didn't get to ponder on it for too long, as he too would hear the thunder that had just incapacitated his partner. He didn't even have time to yell as a metal object that went straight into his lower spine and blew the lower portion of his stomach out, forcing him to collapse onto the wet ground just like his friend. All three of the men were still alive and breathing, but all were in sorry states. As the stranger moved closer, the woman carefully lifted herself up to where she was sitting and turned to see him approach. Naturally fearful, she began to back away from her would-be savior; for all she knew, he was here for the same reasons the three men were, and as she was still in her undergarments, it'd be far too easy. Her fears became worsened when the stranger continued to come near her, leaning down to pick up what looked like a knife-sized shard of glass; perhaps his intentions were worse than the other trio. She closed her eyes and tried to shield herself with her arms, curling her legs up like a ball. Precious seconds passed, but she felt nothing, only hearing the ruffling of clothes. When she opened her eyes, she saw that the stranger was handing her back her robes that were removed from her person earlier. He'd tried to wipe the chunks of mud off of them to the best of his ability.

The stranger said nothing as he handed her the robes. In Human years, she could have been no more than twenty years old. Short black hair, bright blue eyes, and a fair figure, she was a natural target for predators in this town. It made him wonder what she'd been doing so recklessly wondering this side of town during a time like this, but it was irrelevant now. As she took the robes from him, he reached out and took her hand that previously reached out for her clothes, calmly pulling her to her feet. It was here that she was able to get a good look at his face, and initially it took her very aback. He was thin as a twig, his eyes appearing as glass orbs, his skin pale and dotted with crimson blotches and missing pieces of skin, almost like a horror movie monster. She didn't know how to react at first, but she did remember that this man had possibly just saved her life, so she said nothing. He then held up the glass shard that he'd picked up a few seconds ago and handed it to her carefully. "They're all yours." he said in a raspy, southern accent, before turning and walking away. She looked at the shard, before slowly turning to look down at the three defeated men, and smiled lowly.

An hour or so later

The rain had cleared up slightly since he'd left the town, and the stranger had finally found his destination: The Kawahiru Dojang. It was somewhat plainer than he'd expected, given how much he'd heard about Seireitou and his accomplishments prior, but this only helped his approach be more simple and less trouble filled. He approached the main doors and knocked on them with his right hand a couple of times before he spoke lowly, believing someone was behind the door. "I'm here for one Seireitou Kawahiru. I've got a few messages that are a few years late."