Homeplot (2)

[babyviper]

Chapter 1:
The Empty Room in Osaka

Apartment 217, in a nondescript block of an apartment building on the outskirts of downtown Osaka, Japan.

Laying on a bare floor, a clunky mobile phone began to ring. Despite the amount of money such a phone would cost in the late part of the eighties, before the big rush really began, it wasn't even the most expensive item in the room. The real treasures in this tiny, bare apartment had to do with what was in the closet, which bore a simple combination lock.

The ringing seeped into O-Ren's consciousness even as she struggled to wake up. How late had she been out last night? That wasn't like her, and surely Angua and Dean would have had questions. Was she sick, then? Why the heavy haze around her? The fucking ringing was beginning to wear itself out, too.

O-Ren snapped up from her futon so quickly that she had to brace against the window. She was no longer even a bit sleepy, so aware she couldn't keep her hands from shaking as she patted herself down. Same self that had gone to bed the night before.

But a look around confirmed this was her old apartment. Only a few pots to boil ramen in. Blood spots she'd never bothered to clean up. Locked closet. Mobile phone ringing on the ground. She'd cut the regular telephone line herself, preferring this.

It stopped ringing, and O-Ren took a deep breath. "What the fuck."

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[babyviper.livejournal.com]

Whatever part of O-Ren Ishii had been melting from ice to girl there on the island responded, her cheek falling naturally to the back of Arya's hand. Soft as the movement was, these would be no mistaking the wired strength flowing through the rest of her.

"We ride to the end of the line," O-Ren said. "That's where we get off."

[lonewolflives]

"We'll need to pick up a few things," Arya said, although she still had the gun and all the ammunition O-Ren had provided, given that she'd used one of the yakuzas' weapons instead.

What she'd really like was a sword, or two, but she didn't know if that was possible.

More certain was the probability of having to find new clothes, which she was going to hate.