The Prince's Letters

Kazu woke with a start, his knife in hand as he faced the darkness. The hotel room was dark, the curtains drawn over the large window that spanned the entire wall. A few slivers of light ran along the floor, illuminating the dark floor, but they didn't chase away his demons.

Always the same dream. In the corner of his eyes, he could see the silhouettes of helmed figures standing around him, but his vision was obscured by a hand. And no matter how he tried, he couldn't move the hand away. He could never move his body, as if his limbs were tied in place.

But the dreams were getting worse, more violent and frightening. The pair of white hands that came looming out of the darkness terrified him and every time, he woke up sweating.

This time was no exception.

Sliding back to reality with each heartbeat, he kicked away the covers, rubbing his damp neck. His grip grew numb and the knife fell into the bed harmlessly. Kazu threaded his fingers through his hair, clutching his head to shake the nightmares away.

He wasn't given long to rest. The door shot open, light pouring into the room and shooting him in the face. Eyes watering, Kazu shielded his eyes with a hand, enough to make out a lanky silhouette in the doorframe.

"Again with the nightmares? Well, get dressed, we've gotta get going. That should take your mind off it."

A bundle of clothes slapped the dark-haired man in the face, silencing any retort he had. As the door swung closed after Atsushi, Kazu reluctantly shook out the clothes he had been given. The tight-fitting black top he wore at all times was mostly for fighting, so whatever training he did tended to ruin the outer clothes he wore. Rolling out of bed, Kazu pulled up the pants his friend had given him and stuck his head through the hole in the shirt, already used to how well they fit. Atsushi had a knack for shopping, apparently.

Threading his arms through the holes, he followed Atsushi into the living room. "Remind me again why you're dragging me along on this job." He picked up an apple from the basket on the little table and gave it a few rubs on his shirt before taking a bite.

"Yeah, just stay there a moment," Atsushi said. For a moment, Kazu was confused until he saw the phone pressed against the blonde's ear. A subordinate, he presumed. One of Atsu's many. He made his way to the couch, hopping over the back and plopping into the cushions instead of walking around properly. Setting his feet on the coffee table, he had nearly finished his apple by the time Atsushi got off the phone.

"I told you earlier," Atsu said, picking up the conversation, "this guy is giving me trouble. He's minor league, but with plenty money. I just want to make sure the negotiations stay civil."

"And…you're bringing me along, because you know it won't be civil at all." There was no question in Kazu's tone, the corner of his mouth twitching downwards unhappily. "I don't like doing your dirty work. You have plenty of underlings who are willing to fire a gun for you."

"Yeah, but I trust you."

"That doesn't win me over like you think it does."

Atsushi laughed, running a hand through his hair. "Oh well, it was worth a shot. Anyway, are you ready to go?" He walked to the closet, pulling out a long coat. Shrugging into it, he patted his pockets to check he had everything, as Kazu wandered back into the hotel bedroom to grab his weapon.

The sword he wielded was probably something strange to see. Mabushii Rakuen was among the most technologically advanced countries, with gun dealerships and the like cropping up everywhere. Most of the underworld had adopted artillery, but the Imperial Forces remained loyal to its sword-bearing militia. It also had a growing network of roads and travel was becoming easier, even between the two continents, Tendou and Zendou. But no matter what, Kazu didn't feel comfortable without a sword in hand.

He slipped the swordstrap over his head, settling it across his chest. Digging around the blankets for his knife, he shoved it back into the sheath resting on the bedside table and attached that to his boot. One quick glance around the room to make sure nothing had been left, and he shut the door firmly behind him.

Ten thirty found the two seated on a couch, two steaming cups of tea placed in front of them. The mansion had been done up in a Western style, obviously wealthy. And, the person sitting across from them exhaled money. From his silk handkerchief stuck in his pocket to the embroidered name on his shoes, he was every inch a repulsive profligate.

Kazu was reminded of a frog eyeing a fly. Wide set eyes and greasy hair that was combed over to hide the balding patches. Pursing his lips, Kazu leaned his head on his hand, setting it on the armrest. He would take no part in the discussion – the talk that had yet to occur. For some reason, Frog-man showed particular stubbornness, regardless of how nervous he seemed.

"What a lovely home." Atsushi leaned forward, eyes cast upwards at the ceiling as he reached for his tea. Taking a docile sip, he cleared his throat. "Well, shall we get started, Watanabe-dono?"

As if pleased that the handsome young man gave in first, Froggie reclined in his chair, his new manner suddenly smug. "Explain to me why you're here, boy. Just because the name Harukaze Atsushi is well-known means nothing to me."

If Atsushi was at all bothered by the conceit, he didn't let on. "Very well. I'll be straightforward. You need to stop getting involved with my company's dealings."

Watanabe snorted, "Getting involved? Are you insinuating that I'm sabotaging your-"

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying. And you've been doing it for months. I've let you go on simply because you're so pathetic, but really, enough is enough. Using my ships to smuggle in your prostitutes and slaves. All very clever, Watanabe-dono, but you could have picked your target better. You see, my name is well-known for a reason. It's well-earned infamy."

Froggie's buggy eyes grew even larger and Kazu sat up straight. They could both hear the threat in that amicable voice. This was why all of Atsushi's dealings went south. Oh, Kazu knew Atsushi could be as sweet as honey if necessary; why his friend never chose to use propriety…that continued to escape Kazu.

"Y-you little-," his outrage started to color his face and he began to look less like a frog and more like a balloon about to pop.

"Brat may be the word you're looking for."

"How dare you come in here and make these outrageous accusations!" He hopped up from his seat and for a moment, Kazu was bewildered that he didn't squat on all fours.

Atsushi was as calm as ever, setting down the cup with a little clink, "They're not accusations when we both know they're true. Enough with the acting, you're very good. All I ask for is a full compensation to be made." He smiled, "I'm assuming by the expression you're making, you know just how much that is. Upwards of seven figures if we include the damage done to the ships that wouldn't cooperate. But I'll be kind and drop a few zeros off that amount. How does that sound to you?"

During the time Atsushi had been speaking, Watanabe looked as if he had calmed down a bit, gaining control of his senses. "You can't prove anything, and even if you did, I would never pay you that much." His eyes shifted back and forth, and Kazu followed his gaze to the ceiling, presumably where guards were hiding.

"Won't pay me? Or can't pay me?" Atsushi stood up, which sent Watanabe skittering back a few paces. "Well, I suppose it won't matter. I will get my payment whichever way you so-"

"I won't pay you!" A leer creased his features and he clapped his hands together. "You're a fool for coming in here without guards. I have swordsmen stationed everywhere, enough to wipe you off the face of the earth."

Kazu burst out into laughter and stood. Atsu smiled faintly, leaning forward to take one last sip of tea as he got to his feet as well. "Admission of guilt. Good enough for me. What about you, Kazu?"

The reaction was obviously not what Watanabe expected, his eyes bulging again. "Wh-what are you doi-" His words were interrupted by the sound of Kazu drawing his sword from his sheath.

"I've heard enough," Kazu grinned, and in a flash, the tip of his sword was pointed at Watanabe's nose. "Move and he gets my sword through his eye." The men who had appeared at the doorway stopped short, weapons at the ready, the thought of their bank account getting skewered making them pause. And if that wasn't enough, the sight of the dark-haired man's heavy weapon was certainly doing the trick. It was no normal blade, almost twice as long and with a double edge. Kazu gestured towards the front door with his sword, wielding the heavy weapon with little trouble, even with an extended arm. He didn't look at Atsushi as he spoke, his eyes watching the tip of his blade gently trace the man's jaw, as the blood drained from his face in fear. "Hostage situation or no?"

"Ahh…up to you I suppose. I'd rather get out of here without much hassle though."

"You take him then. I'll deal with his goons."

"I don't really want to…"

"Atsu." Kazu let the sword drop, hitting the floor with a thud and cracking the tile, only to look at his friend with an incredulous look. "You drag me along, then complain to me?"

"Yes? Oh, he's got-"

Bang! Bang!

The sword didn't show a single blemish when Watanabe's two bullets ricocheted off of its blade. One went south, the other slammed itself into the firer's stomach and the man went down with a yelp of pain. The man's small pistol clattered across the floor, out of his reach. Froggie looked more like a frog then, sprawled on the ground and groaning as his stomach bled out. Kazu winced, letting his sword rest on the floor again. "I would have at least given him a faster death than that…" He tsked under his breath and lifting the sword again, brought it down once.

The tiles where Watanabe's neck had been shattered with the impact and his head rolled for a few moments. In the hush of shock that followed, Kazu wiped his blade on the man's clothes, but the silence lasted only a few short seconds before the first hired sword screamed some unintelligible battlecry. Soon enough, all of the rest were taking up the call and there was a stampede of feet as they swarmed around the two.

Kazu pursed his lips. This always happened. Always. Atsushi beside him had the decency to look a little surprised, but he wasn't fooling anyone. As the blond pulled a gun from his own coat, Kazu turned to face the angry men. There were forty or so, all of them rather ugly and unkempt.

"If you aren't getting money, you're going to get blood or something? Alright well, if that's what you want, I'll oblige."