Chapter 26 The hitman's story

Hayata stood up from the occupied bed. He groaned cracking his neck, then stretched the remainder of his body to pop the knots. His partner still didn’t stir. He trudged to the bathroom and relieved himself. He came back out, walked to the wardrobe and got into his sweats.

He took his headphones and his phone.

“Nothing new” he murmured as he made his way up to the roof. A makeshift gym had been set up. He only left his humble abode when he needed to. He was a couch potato.

The question, why didn’t he stay in a better place if he had that much money?

He didn’t have an answer to that also.

He dropped his phone close, and did his stretches.

Then his normal workout. A thirty minute jog, then his sit-ups. Pushups. His lunges. His planks, skipping, then on to the heavy stuff. His pull-ups.

His headphones had dropped to his neck. Perspiration had gathered on his forehead. He had his lips stretched with the effort.

“How to die, A to Z”.

“Asphyxia”.

“Blunt trauma”.

“Cardiac arrest”.

He accompanied every word with a pull-up.

“Decapitation”.

“Electrocution”.

“Falling”.

“Gunshot wound”.

“Inert gas asphyxiation”.

“Jellyfish sting”.

“Killing”.

“Laughing gas”.

“Mortal wound”.

He paused. In the process of a pull-up. His chin just above the bar. And he was frowning. He couldn’t remember N.

It was aggravating.

“Remember how you killed that pedo” a young man walked up to him.

“Oh! I do” he chuckled. “Nailing”.

“Overdose”.

“Postural asphyxia”.

“Queuing” this time, it was a full blown out laugh. A lot of people standing in line, pushing and getting pushed around…..anything could happen.

“Respiratory failure”.

“Slashing”.

“Traffic collision”.

“Umbrella attack” to be honest, he hadn’t planned that.

“Vanity”.

“Waterboarding”.

“Xenophilia”.

“Yarn”.

“Zoo animal attack” and he dropped on his toes.

“Whoo!” he exclaimed. “That was a good workout”.

The other guy stopped skipping. Hayata smiled.

“I thought with how last night went, you wouldn’t be able to get up this morning”.

The guy just tilted his head, giving him a displeased look. He dropped the rope.

Hayata thought he was going to use it to hit him. But he didn’t. He hadn’t pissed him off to that extent yet. That was good.

He and Eisuke didn’t have the most conventional of relationships. Eisuke, also known as kill shot is-was a marksman. A skilled one. He never missed his shot. A very impressive record in Hayata’s book. He had been in a bar one night, and he had met the guy playing darts. He didn’t miss one.

He had watched the way his hands moved. Either he was a professional dart player, or he had other skills. They had gotten to talking. One killer to another. Well he had found out later. He had literally walked up to the guy and complemented his hands.

Then he had said he was an assassin.

He had said he had known. He was a profiler too. But Eisuke had been a smartass and had differentiated them.

The difference was that he didn’t take pleasure in killing people. He wasn’t an assassin like him. He just killed when they gave him a name and a reason. Whereby Hayata took pleasure in killing them alphabetically, no questions asked and enjoyed the money.

He didn’t like him so much after that.

But the guy had needed a place to stay, and they had become roommates. Now here they were.

“I require your services” he stated. It was time for business. He had no idea that his lovely sisters had been in Tokyo all the while. They had literally dropped his sisters into his laps.

“Why?” he asked cautiously. He didn’t trust Hayata. Yes they had been living together for a very long time, they even shared a bed occasionally, but he would never trust him. The man before him had dead eyes. And that was normally associated with a sociopath, and that was before they had begun talking.

Before he found out he was an assassin.

“What kind of job eludes your skills that you would need mine?” he drawled.

“This doesn’t elude my skills in any way” he replied in a clipped tone.

“Yes, because you have that reputation as the alphabet killer. Why would you need my skills?”

“I intend to kill them, don’t worry about it. But, I want them to look into my eyes as that happens” he gave him a grin.

“Sounds personal” he noted. “Who are they?”

“My sisters” he chirped.

Eisuke wished he was holding the rope currently. “You want to kill your sisters?” he asked hoping he had heard wrong.

“Half-sisters” he corrected him.

“And the difference?” he asked appalled. “You’re just going to kill them, because…..” he dragged.

“It’s just business man” he made a dismissive wave. “They hate me and…..well that’s it. They just hate me. Why are you so emotional about this? It’s not like they’re your family” he moved to sit down on the slightly cold cement.

“And your sisters, I’m guessing they know about your ‘job’?” he was done with exercising.

“Of course they do. And that’s why I want it to be different. I don’t just want it to happen unexpectedly. I want them to see it coming, and to accept that they can do nothing about it” then he laughed.

“And why do you need my help for that?” this was confusing.

“I’m an expert at killing people. Not much of a fighter, and I’m outnumbered. Two against one” he pouted. “And I’ll pay for your services”.

“I’m not going to kill those women. I told you before, I’m not an assassin”.

“Oh! How can I forget?” he asked flippantly. “You’re some kind of vigilante. Doing the government’s dirty work. I guess you deserve some kind of medal sweeping up their trash” his tone was mocking.

“Hayata” he warned.

“You kill” he stated the facts. “You killed. If you know you didn’t want any part of this, you wouldn’t be living with me. You kill bad guys. Terrorists, kingpins. How about if I tell you my sisters are gangsters?” he smirked smugly.

“You’re lying!” he accused.

“Why would I lie? I don’t just go around killing people because I feel like” he said casually. “Like you, I also have a reason, but I answer to everyone who pays the right price”. “What do you call them again? Gangsters are no good, scum of the earth” he laughed loud, slapping his knee after that.

He could see it was a family thing.

“What do you want me to do then?” he asked his voice low.

“In all good time” he said stand up, dusting the back of his sweats and went back to the living area.

VVVVV

“Who’s my father?” a young Hayata had asked his mum. He was fourteen. And seeing other children his age, with the perfect standard family, he became envious. His mum had always said he knew too much for his age. And he had too.

There were a lot of things he was exposed to, and mum wasn’t always there to see it. He had learnt a lot about how he must have come to be. Either his father was dead or he abandoned them. Or he must have been a mistake. Either from rape, one night stand. Or the other woman to his father.

“You’re better off not knowing” she had replied.

“But I want to know” he was determined. “Other kids my age have dads, why don’t I have one?”

His mum hadn’t expected that outburst that was clear. He had expected her to yell at him. Tell him he was better off like she always did. He didn’t expect her to look like that. A smile that lacked all humor. So bitter. And her eyes was telling a story he didn’t know about.

“You really want to know your father, don’t you?” she approached, then she cupped his face and they were looking into each other’s eyes.

“Yes” he wasn’t so sure anymore. His mum was scaring him, but he wanted to satisfy his curiosity.

“He’s the devil himself” she hissed. “He’s evil. He only hurts people. He uses them and kills them. Do you still want to know?” she asked shaking him, her eyes wide.

That just made him want it more.

“W-what’s his name?” he stammered.

His mum grinned like she was mad. Was this the power his mum had over her? To reduce the composed woman to this.

“Isami Hirose” she whispered. “He destroys lives, people and everything he touches….like he destroyed mine” her voice was hoarse. “See why I said you were better off!?” she yelled. “But you don’t listen child!!” she didn’t stop shaking him. `

“Stay away!!!” she screamed.

When she finally let him go, she disappeared somewhere in their flat. He had a name. He knew he should listen to his mother. Mothers knew best. But not all the time. He knew he was a little bit too young to talk like he knew everything, but he knew some things. Circumstances made him age faster.

“Isami Hirose” he whispered. Okay he had a name. He had s description. The devil himself, destroys things. He knew he should be scared, but he wasn’t. What he was told just made him feel inspired. His dad must be someone great, someone powerful.

His mum was meant to be his role model, due to her being the only present parental figure he had. But now there was another. A dad. A new role model. He had to find him. He had to meet him. He wasn’t sure his dad knew he was alive. Since his mum really didn’t like him.

Growing up, the time you learn not to hang out with a bad crowd, is after something bad happens. Nothing bad actually bad happened per say. Nothing unexpected happened. He had mentioned his father’s name.

Word spread fast.

And the kids grew up on the street. They knew everything, well that was what they claimed. And they did get back to him. He got an address.

Either his mum was completely oblivious, or she ignored him. Because he had gotten dressed in the best he had, and she said nothing. They both knew he wasn’t going on a date. He had never mentioned a girl to her. And she didn’t ask.

Things had changed since that day in the kitchen.

Anyway, he was going to meet his father.

He took a taxi there. The sheer size of the gate intimidated him. He knew he was already here, but he could still turn around. He wasn’t ready. He knew he would be rich, but this wasn’t what he expected. What did his father do exactly?

Before he could turn around, he heard loud footsteps on the granite.

“You!”

That stopped him.

“What are you doing here?”

He was looking at the guard. “I-I-I…..I came to see my dad. Isami Hirose” he didn’t know where the confidence came from.

It must have sounded funny. A child just showing up, them saying he wanted to see his father. When it seemed to everyone, he didn’t have a son. Well a son they all knew about.

“Are you serious?” the guard asked.

“Yes” he nodded excited that he was being taken seriously.

The guard walked to the side and made a call. “Someone is here to see the boss. A boy”.

He couldn’t hide his smile. Everything was looking so positive.

“Sure” he said. He dropped the phone, then he opened part of the gate. “Come in”.

He smiled literally jumping in. He was about to take off, when the guard placed his hand on his shoulder, effectively stopping him.

“Do you just go off running into stranger’s houses?” he inquired.

“It’s my father’s house” he said petulant.

“Just go in, someone will be there to receive you and take you to him” he explained.

“Sure” and he took off running.

Getting to the palace, because he couldn’t call it a mansion, he just stood in a spot and twirled. It was so big, it was so beautiful. The very high ceilings, the magnificent windows, and beautiful designs. He wanted to live somewhere like this.

When he stopped twirling, a woman in a suit stood before him. Her face unfriendly.

“Who are you?” she asked curtly.

“Hayata Saito” he supplied. Unknowingly mimicking the stance of the woman.

She studied him for a while. Obviously taking everything about him in. The state of his clothes were nowhere next to hers, but he could pass in here. She turned around when she was done.

“Follow me” she said. He followed her, slowly this time, taking more of it in. When they made it up the stairs, she turned left and he followed. There was a room, with just enough sunlight filtering in. It looked like a tea party was going on. There was a tea set, with various cakes and snacks. There was a girl. The smallest, cutest girl he had ever seen.

His footsteps had become slower.

She was dressed colorful. Her clothes way better than his. Her hair styled in neat pigtails. She was there, sitting on a chair and swinging her legs. Even with her face all cute, he knew she had a lot of power.

“This way Mr. Hayata” the woman called ahead. Standing in front of a door. He ran up to her, and she knocked. “Your guest sir” she said and stepped away.

She wasn’t going to open the door for him, he figured that out. The nerves were back.

He made sure he smoothed his hair back, before opening the door.

He didn’t have a picture in his head of what he thought his father might look like. But the man behind the desk exceeded his expectations. He was sitting, but he knew he was tall. Well he felt it. His hair was handsomely styled, and he was handsome.

He didn’t go around saying fellow guys were handsome. He wasn’t sure most guys did it, but when a guy said another guy was handsome, it must be true. The man before him was handsome, and maybe it was just him looking for a way to have something in common with the man he just found out was his dad, but they had the same eyes.

“Good morning sir” he approached the desk self-conscious. His hands behind him moving in various positions.

“Hayata, right?” his voice commanded that he be listened to.

“Yes sir” he stood at attention.

He sighed. “Listen, I don’t want any problem with your mum. I don’t know how I can explain it to you. How old are you anyway?”

“Fourteen!” he answered sharply.

“Yes. Your mother made it very clear that she doesn’t want me in her life. She didn’t want me to be a part of your life. I assume she told you” he gave him a pointed look.

“She did”.

He laughed. Hayata felt good making him laugh. Making his father laugh.

“Called me the devil, that I’m evil” and he stood up. His eyes didn’t leave him the entire time. He walked towards the boy, and he just stared. “You’re not here to avenge your mum because you didn’t grow up the way you deserved, did you? Because it’s not my fault”.

He looked up at the man in wonder. Admiring how he said everything calmly.

“No” he shook his head vigorously. “I just wanted to meet you. You’re my dad and I….”

“Don’t tell me you have the idea of a perfect family” he interrupted him. His voice deadpan.

“No, none of that. My mum made sure of that. Why does she hate you so much?” he inquired.

“She doesn’t approve of my life choices” he stated plainly. Dismissive.

“Then how did I come to be?”

“I still don’t know” he shrugged. “Does she have any idea that you’re here anyway? I don’t want her involving the police in my business” it didn’t look like he was warning him, but there was a sound to it.

“No sir. She doesn’t always know what I get up to” he said softly. Like she was sharing a secret.

Isami smiled at him. “A young man with young dreams. Just like myself”.

“Just like you” he agreed. He had been compared to his father.

“Do you have a special skill or something?”

They were bonding. Well they had been bonding. That question was…..”No” he looked down. Feeling disappointed in himself. What father would be proud of a child that had no skill?

“That’s not a problem” he chortled. “I was just about your age when I found my special skill. “You aren’t Hirose because of your mum, but there’s still part of me in you, whether she likes it or not. You’ll find it, and when you do, nurture it and let it grow”.

Isami patted his shoulder.

He was elated. He never thought the meeting would go like this. He never thought he’d get to experience this with his real dad.

He stepped back and went to his desk. He got an envelope and handed it to the boy. “Make sure your mum doesn’t see it” he winked. “I’m not sure you’ll be coming back here”.

“I don’t know the future” he answered honestly.

“Wise words from a teen. I might be around and I might not. That is uncertain. That envelope will help you” he pointed to the package. “Or will you say you don’t need my help?” he smirked.

“Thank you” he smiled at him. And he would have hugged him, if that woman didn’t walk in.

“Your attention is needed sir” she said stiffly.

“Wish I could talk more Hayata” he smiled genuinely at him. “Bu duty calls. “I’m sure you’re capable of showing yourself out”.

“Yes sir” he nodded. “Thank you for your time”.

“Till next time” he said walking out with the woman.

Hayata held the envelope and put it in his jacket. Close to his heart. It was time he got home, not that his mum would notice, but still. No need to make her worry when there wasn’t any need to. He stepped out, closing the door.

He got to the end, and rounded the corner. He stopped before he could collide with a girl. This wasn’t the girl he saw earlier. This one was taller, wasn’t that cute as the one he saw earlier. He was only an inch taller than her. So she was a teen too. Or she was just tall.

She had her arms folded. Her lips in a frown, or that was how her face was. Her hair was shorter, her fringe unequal and she was glaring at him accusatory.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“Hayata” he replied. “And you are?” It was only fair. A name for a name.

“Sachi” she supplied. “What did you want with my father?”

He thought as much. This didn’t seem like a house that the help would bring their kids. Looks like they were sisters. She didn’t look too happy, but he had been alone his whole life. It was refreshing to know he had a sibling.

“He’s my father too” he said just too see her face change from that unwelcoming expression.

She did change expressions. From anger to shocked, then she narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re his bastard then” she stated.

That took away his confidence. And she must have known, because she leaned closer. They both knew it. He was only half of their father. She was his fully. A true heir. He was the product of his relationship with the other woman.

“You’re his bastard, and that’s all you ever will be” she said crudely. And as she leaned closer. He noticed something. They had the same eyes.

“We have the same eyes” he stated with a faint smile.

He could tell she wasn’t expecting that. She was obviously expecting a retort.

BANG!!!

They both flinched. That was a gunshot. They ran to the window that wasn’t covered by a curtain. And it was to see and hear the gun go off. The man that had been shot, lifeless in a pool of blood. The person who held the gun, was Isami himself.

Hayata smiled. Seeing someone get killed, especially seeing your father doing the killing should be traumatizing. He was amazed. Taken away by the sheer beauty. Then and there he wanted to be like his father. He knew that would make him proud.

It clicked now. His mum calling his dad the devil, evil and now he had seen him kill someone. His father was a gangster. And his sweet sister that was by his side, seemed to be so much like their dad. She had the look, the tongue and the attitude.

“Gangster life huh?” he asked when he turned away.

VVVVV

His mum had died. He found her unresponsive on the kitchen floor. Then his dad had died. He was truly alone, his sisters were alone. As Isami died, so did his gang. Learning the art of killing was a form of therapy.

They were many assassins in the world, not to even talk about Asia. But they were always the same. He wanted to leave a mark that everyone would know he was the one. Leaving a mark on the body was too common, so was dismembering the body and spreading it around.

He had thought about it, and killing people in alphabetical order just came to him. It was unique, and if people were smart enough to give it the right name, he’d make a name for himself. Assassins don’t put up ads and get a job.

He had been contacted by gangs, political parties’ etcetera. And that was because he had gangster friends. If he didn’t, he’d be doing this as a hobby. But one thing he’d never be was a gangster. He loved his dad, and his mum. But that wasn’t for him. That kind of life.

What his dad had left for him helped him get started. Money he could access when he got older. It was quite a fortune. Nothing less for his son, he had believed. It took a while, but he made a name for himself.

And he had forgotten that he had sisters, but when a boy brought three pictures to him to take care off. He realized that the gang didn’t really die. Doing his research, his younger sister had taken over. A twist. A big unexpected one.

He looked at himself in the mirror, and gave himself a killer smile.

He wouldn’t be the alphabet assassin if he refused a job.

VVVVV

Eisuke stirred his lukewarm tea. Bothering on cold. He huffed. He couldn’t handle hot things anymore, ever since the incident. He scratched at the dried skin. It was already a scar, had healed over the years. It was soft already, but it still felt hard.

He had been a soldier. Embarked on life-threatening missions and survived. He left that world behind, but not completely. They were still people out there that needed to be taken out. People that had to be dead. He still got contacted from time to time, but he retired.

And he was unlucky to meet the sociopath Hayata.

He had money, but that was blood money. He was traumatized.

He tried to get better. Got an honest job at a deli and went to therapy. But like the people he killed, the trauma wasn’t something that would just go away. Therapy and medication ate into his money, and there were also bills to pay.

Hayata had been his only option. The other man was nothing like him, so if he tried anything funny he could take care of himself.

Hayata was everything he hated. The embodiment of literally everything he hated, but he didn’t have the heart and the mind to kill him. And the day that had changed their relationship was still very fresh on his face.

It had been a normal day. Hayata had been angry about something. He had been irate, and there hand been a steaming mug of hot water. He had picked it up, and the water had flown over his shoulder, right into his face.

It had been a slow recovery. He had gone through a lot of injuries in his lifetime, but nothing like that, like a hot water injury that everyone could see immediately. Those type of accidents, would cause the skin to bubble and rise.

That did a lot to his confidence.

His self-esteem.

Surprisingly Hayata had been sorry. He didn’t believe him, but it had seemed like that at the time.

He had been in the bus when it happened. When a child had seen him, looked at his face and begun to cry. And he had gone face-to-face with some of the most evil men in the world. Ruthless men and women. And a kid crying because of him had broken the sense of peace and calm he had achieved.

What had happened next had been a moment of weakness on his path, and Hayata taking advantage. Over and over and over and over again. Because every time he looked in the mirror, he was a monster. Now he just looked the part.

And Hayata was an opportunist.

But one thing he couldn’t get rid of was his sense of duty. People like the assassin’s family needed to be gotten rid of. He hadn’t been told what was to be expected of him. He didn’t know if he’d have to kill them yet.

But if he did, would he be able to?

He drank his cold tea.

This madness was definitely a family thing.