Strictly Business

Chapter 8

Niro Kakushitsu. To think I'd ever find out my last name. I'd been orphaned for my entire life since young. I grew up in Prairie Side, a wasteland disguised as an orphanage, where everybody looked out for themselves and nobody else. It was a dog eat dog world, and everybody was dogs.

And now, presently, I was presented with a startlingly new realization: I was not alone.

For several centuries, the human race has always been interested in the concept of life in outer space. Life in the far reaches of our conception. We've fantasized about what life could be like on Mars. We've imagined extraterrestrial life. Many space voyages have been made in attempts to find life 'out there'. So why do we strive so hard to find it? Simply put, we hate to be alone. Humans can't possibly be the only sentient beings in the universe, right? Despite every single failed attempt to discover life in the cosmos, we still hang on desperstely to that dangling thread of belief: that we're not alone.

All my life, I've been alone. Sure, I had people who I could rely on when the excrement hit the proverbial fan, but when it comes down to it, I lived alone. Unaccompanied. So it came as quite the surprise when I learnt that I had a family. Well, thats not so accurate. I've always known I'd had a family, but I never figured that I would actually see them face to face, or ever know them. After all, they HAD casted me out from young.

And now they were trying to drag me back into the family tree. Whoopee dee, me.

"C'mon, Niro. Go to Father."

"Shut up, you."

Debra Kakushitsu. My half-sister. She was wearing a pink dress that flowed down to her kneeline where it cut off in a ruffled pattern. Her hair was tied up in a ponytail, held in place by a glittering blue bangle. Pretty. She was always one for looks, even since a year ago when I first met her and she tried to kill me. Now she's my half-sister, and I'm just as wary of her. She's the living epitome of femme fatale - looks that kill, forked tongue (figuratively speaking), knows how to use a gun.

I lay in the large oak canopy bed. Four ornately engraved poles rose up from each corner that held an exquisite red cloth over the bed, which swayed slowly in the breeze.

"How did I get here?" I asked.

Last I remembered, I had her cornered on a napalm-bombed rooftop.

"You really think I went to kill you unaccompanied?," she said with a tinge of exasperation, "Please. Professionalism, right?"

"You? Professional?" I couldn't help but giggle. "I wouldnt call spraying with a minigun very professional."

"Oh, you're so witty." She rolled her eyes. "You'd think that maybe I was trying to force you to move position?"

Damn. She had riddled my apartment with holes just so I would expose myself, leave myself vulnerable. When I came to question her on the opposite rooftop, I had done just that.

I let out a quiet "ah".

"I had snipers positioned two blocks away. Equipped with tranquilizers. One shot you with a sedative. And now here you are."

I turned in the bed, and I felt a jolt in my leg. My hand moved to feel it. There was a bruise where the tranq needle had hit me.

"Ugh."

"Yes, ugh," she mimicked.

I sighed. "What are you planning to do with me? Feed me to the dogs?"

"No, oh no, deary me, I would never do that." She batted her eyelids in what was obviously a sarcastic motion. "I just wanted you to meet Father. Hear him out."

"Father?"

"Yes," she said, "Father."

"Why'd you try to kill me last year? Posed undercover as a 'client'? Tried to get me to meet Father too, huh?"

"No. Last year was entirely different. I was planning to kill you. Simple as that." She hesitated for a moment and I could sense the reluctance in her voice. "Circumstances...have changed. Somewhat."

"Uh-huh. Right. So now I'm not going to die. I totally believe you there. Cross my heart."

She rolled her eyes. "Quit being so sarcastic," she smirked, "I would never kill family."

Family.

She left the room silently after that, and as she exited by the doorway, she paused and turned just for a moment, making sure I got a glimpse of that wicked smile.

"Heh," I muttered to myself, "so Niro, what's your plan of action?"

I made up my mind to meet Father. I got dressed in my regular grey shirt and checkered black sweater. I draped a red scarf over my shoulders and felt it wrap around my neck. It was soft, and felt reassuring. My hands dug their way into my pockets and I pushed the door open with my right foot, and it gave way with little resistance.

It was time to meet 'Father'.

I had a few words to say.