YUKI

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He was eighteen when he was brought to the organization by Takahashi. He was following her like a lost puppy, although behind the constant tremble cursing through his body and the dry tear tracks on his blood-stained face, Yuki could see a dangerous heat in his eyes.

The words of her father echoed inside her head impossibly loud as he looked at this mixture of raw anger and pure terror of a boy. She had heard him loud and clear, but she still couldn't stop the startled question tumbling from her lips.

"What?" she said, baffled and more than just a little bit annoyed.

"I didn't know you were short on hearing, Yuki," said her father, subduing her with a hard glare. "I spoke clearly enough: You will take charge of Taiga."

Yuki was just two years older than this boy, even if the smooth movement that took to pull a trigger and take a life away was something that had been ingrained in her body for years already. She had seen so many like this boy. Hell, she had once been like this boy, too. She knew the trauma, the boiling anger, the horror that followed the shadows at all times of day. Even after years, the nightmares still woke her up at night. She was not done handling herself, there was no way on Earth she could handle someone else.

"Why me?" said Yuki, trying to quell the raising anger in the pit of her stomach.

"You are around his age," stated her father, calmly.

"Exactly. I am not prepared to mother anyone."

A soft snort caught her attention. Her eyes glided over to the boy, who was suddenly standing very straight next to Takahashi. His black straight hair covered his eyes almost completely, but Yuki could clearly see the sharp edge of his smirk as he jutted his chin upward.

"As if you could," he spit out.

Yuki narrowed her eyes, but before she could say anything, Takahashi stepped forwards and rose his voice for the first time since the start of the small meeting.

"Yuki," he said, in that polit but stern way that left no room for protest. "You know what it is like to suffer the loss of a loved one. You lost your mother."

She straightened her back at the mention of her mother and sent Takahashi a dangerous look.

"But you didn't have to watch her die," continued Takahashi, and Yuki stilled. "Taiga has seen how his parents were shot to death in front of him with his own two eyes. He is covered in their blood."

Something twisted inside Yuki's stomach, but she didn't have time to reflect on it: a heart-wrenching sob brought her attention to the bloody boy. He was biting his lip with such force she was sure he would break it soon.

"You had your father by your side after your mother's death," said Takahashi. "He doesn't have anyone. We are not asking you to be a mother, we are asking you to be a friend."

Yuki opened her mouth, but the boy beat her to whatever she was about to say.

"I don't need anyone's pity," he said, through clenched teeth.

Her father approached the boy, slowly but surely, and set a hand over his bony shoulder.

"Taiga," he said. "This is not pity. This is understanding, this is help, this is a promise for revenge."

The boy —Taiga, Yuki remembered— closed his hands in tight, white-knuckled fists.

"This," continued her father, "is what we do at the Fire Shadow."

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