“C'mon, Ayame...hurry it up, would you?”

Of all the horror filled nights in Ayame's past, this one in particular was when things begin to change. Right now, in this already precariously balanced, unfortunate situation, Ayame hears her sister's voice urging her along in a hushed tone from out in the dreary-looking hallway of this apartment block.

“I'm trying to hurry it up, okay?” she grunts. “Stop rushin' me.”

“Geez...what a goddamn mess this is. Why'd you have to go and kill her for, anyway?”

“Shut the fuck up, Teru! Shut up!”

Teru clicks her tongue.

“...Whatever. Just get on with it, alright?”

Despite her aggression, Ayame isn't panicked. She never is.

Currently, Ayame's knees are drenched in blood. Her dark trousers have soaked in the same copper-scented liquid she is usually spattered with every night, and really, she is more thankful than ever to not be a stranger to this gruesome, unnatural feeling. After all, killing someone in retaliation to their violent rage is one thing; to then dismember their body with intent to burn it is quite another.

Ayame gasps for breath, and she tries to ignore the dry sensation resting on her tongue. She isn't worried, but she is traumatized, even if her body doesn't quite realize it; and her hands are so tired. Tired from the lifestyle, certainly; but having to chop through muscle and bone with a dull cleaver felt like trying to carve rock with a butter knife.

The apartment lights are off, but the scene is illuminated by the droning background noise of the television. There are flecks of blood against the back wall, and Ayame knows that her twin sister, Teru Tokugawa, is keeping watch at the door in case any of the apartment block tenants get too nosy.

Never can stand the sight of gore or blood for too long, Teru would say, though Ayame was pretty certain that it was just an excuse. Teru always did love managing to get out of doing some actual work for the family, whilst Ayame followed the orders they were given without question.

Twins in appearance only, it seemed. It wasn't for drastically differing haircuts, they'd be identical.

“Shit...!” Ayame grunted, and swung the cleaver down all over again. Flashes of the way this altercation had started begun sprinting through her mind, and her heart was pounding from the repetition of adrenaline. The sudden punch thrown by her enemy; the follow up action afterwards. “You – waste of space – bitch!”

“Ayame. Are you gonna be done chopping her up some time this year? We need to get out of here soon.”

Ayame's cleaver clattered with a splash at her side as she turned angrily towards the door. A laugh track played on the television behind her; muffled only by the sound of her voice in reply.

“Bug me one more time, Teru, and you'll be at the end of this thing. Got it?”

“Ugh...” Teru grumbled, and Ayame heard the spark of her lighter. “Well if we get caught, don't go blaming me. It's already gonna be enough of a shitstorm that you killed another lieutenant.”

The dry taste on Ayame's tongue quickly shifts to a sour note.

“She threw the first punch,” she replies, as she picks up the wet handle of the cleaver again. “I couldn't let her live.”

“You know that's not a good enough reason, right? Like, the logical part of your brain knows that, doesn't it?”

“Have you always been this annoying...?” Ayame grunts in response, and strands of her hair hang darkly over her eyes as she finally makes the last chop. “Ugh. Holy fuck.”

Lulling her head back and looking up at the ceiling, the cleaver falls from her hand once again, and bounces slightly off of a dismembered upper arm. What a horrible task that was, Ayame thinks.

She runs a bloody hand through her hair without thinking. Slicking it back with someone else's blood is certainly not a new experience, but using this much of it is. If she actually allowed herself to be squeamish, though, she'd never get anything done.

At least it would keep the hair out of her eyes until they got back to the family house.

“All done?” Teru whispers from the doorway, and Ayame hears her exhale a little shakily. “I sure hope so.”

“Yeah. Give me the garbage bag...I'm glad this moron had some on hand.”

“At least she could afford those, right? Jesus Christ...” Teru chuckles, though Ayame can hear she's not amused. “What a royal mess we've made. Again.”

“I don't give a shit.”

“I know you don't, but I do. What happens if they find out it was us? The guards for the Himekawas clearly know we came in the front.”

“Us? This was all me. You slacked off again, as usual."

“But –”

“And even then…” Ayame interrupted sharply, shaking out the bag. “Maybe we’re stayin’ the night or some shit.”

Teru rolls her eyes.

“Sure! A slumber party, why not? We've had no problems with these double-crossing fuckers at all this year. And we're only in July!"

Ayame, staggering to her feet, stomped over to where Teru was at the door. The bright fluorescent lights of the main hallway outside seared her eyes after so much darkness in the apartment behind her; the beige wallpaper of the décor was painful for anyone's aesthetic pleasures.

“Wow,” Teru laughed with a gasp. “You look like shit.”

Ayame frowned. By the account of just about anyone who lay eyes on her, Teru Tokugawa was a handsome woman.

She was cocky, charming, a little naïve, and certainly confident in her abilities, which made her much more capable than the majority of gangsters in Kyoto – even if she was much lazier than they were. And upon the sight of Teru’s totally unsullied appearance from being outside of the apartment, Ayame finally realized just what a mess she must look right now.

Whilst her once white shirt was now stained with blood, Teru’s was still crisp, with a loose tie hanging around her neck. Where Ayame’s pants were also stained with the carnage of tonight, Teru’s dark slacks were just fine. Teru’s short, dark hair was mostly slicked back with just a few messy strands hanging across her brow; whilst Ayame’s longer hair was, too…though her choice of hair product was not something she would like to repeat anytime soon.

Snatching the trashbag out of Teru's hand with irritation, Ayame felt her temper flare as she grumbled.

“Fuck off. Do something useful for a change, you lazy little shit.”

Teru laughed nervously.

“Listen, just because you’re two minutes older th – mmph!”

Ugh. Teru always talks too much.

Ayame's bloody hand grabbed Teru's face roughly, and Teru's cigarette promptly fell out of her mouth. The hot end bounced off of Ayame's thumb, leaving a slight burn mark on the skin to which she ignored, unflinching; before it fell to the floor – extinguished from even the faintest brush with the liquids that covered Ayame's hand.

Teru swiftly lost any modicum of amusement she had, and gained a quickly fierce gaze in reply to her sister.

“Either you shut your mouth and help me,” Ayame began through grit teeth, “or you keep talking, and I'll be down a sister.”

Throwing Teru’s face out of her grip, Teru rubbed her jaw with a laugh.

“Seriously…” she chuckled smugly. “You can drop that line of talking, you know. Those threats never work.”

“Why?”

“Because I know you’d never kill me. You'd miss me too much.”

Teru smiled, unfazed. Ayame blinked in surprise; though really, she never knew why she continued to be surprised by this cheeky behaviour.

Ayame sighed.

“I guess not.” she replied resignedly; pinching the bridge of her nose in an attempt to alleviate the faint flicker of guilt. “Sorry. I’m feelin’ a little grouchy after that idiot Himekawa lieutenant tried to pull a fast one over on us.”

Teru saw the uncharacteristic acceptance of wrongdoing written all over her sister’s face, and allowed herself to relax a little, too.

“It’s fine. Hey, maybe the girls tonight will love it if I keep some of the action there. Kuro said that used to happen to her.”

“Action? You idiot. They'll probably just think you have a weird fetish or something…and Kuro never knows when to not encourage you.”

“H-Hey, now...” Teru replied with a cringe inwardly, and Ayame couldn't help but crack a little smile at that. Teru chuckled to herself as she wiped away the blood. “Point taken.”

“You go through girls like water, anyway...”

“I always do make them wet.”

“God, you're so fucking lame.”

Teru laughed, and if the twins hadn't been trying to keep themselves under cover, it would have been even more uproarious than it already was.

Despite Teru’s ability to bounce back with ease, Ayame could still tell that Teru was always a little afraid when she acted up in such a way. Teru could certainly hold her own, that much was known from the kinds of arguments they would have as teenagers; but as adults, Ayame knew it must have felt a little more daunting. Just how terrible have I gotten, to make my own sister afraid?

Although she hated to admit it to herself, it was always in times of guilt that Ayame couldn’t ignore her jealousy over Teru’s carefree attitude. If only she could be so ignorant to the world around them; if only she could be the one standing outside having a smoke. If only.

In Ayame’s opinion, Teru wasn't going to last long by being so lax around pretty girls, though even she had enough heart to pray that wasn't going to be a reality for the sister she did love.

The Tokugawa twins had always had an unconventional upbringing.

Born in a small, coastal Japanese town by the name of Akiyama, they soon moved to Kyoto with their family, and the two of them were raised by whoever happened to be available that day. By way of this, no small amount of instability was used in the process of rearing them to adulthood. In many cases, it was lucky they had survived so long; in others, it was no wonder.

The Tokugawa clan was a household name in Yakuza territory in Japan, and even internationally, to a certain point. Whilst they weren't known infamously...to those that were in the know, it was no secret that they had spread their roots the world over. Where there may have been gangs in Thailand or China, the Tokugawa clan had no trouble either making coalitions with them; or simply laying them to waste. No clan was ever too insurmountable.

Especially not with Ayame Tokugawa in the group - who was a feared name by everyone who knew of her.

As though to prove the point to the universe watching on, Ayame's hands scrambled to stuff the unceremoniously chopped up body pieces into the trashbag. Where Teru couldn't stand to look at the gore of carnage, Ayame simply viewed it as a chore. This body was nothing more than a fleshy series of weighty objects to be moved now, and that was that.

“I'm done,” Ayame croaked, announcing both an end to the collection of body parts, and the internal justification to herself of the Himekawa lieutenant's death. “Ugh...”

“You sound like you need a beer, Aya. And you smell like you need a shower.”

“Well I'm not fucking surprised. Whoever said life in the Yakuza was all glitz and glamour was lying.”

“Why do we even need to chop up the bodies, again…?” Teru asked. Ayame clicked her tongue as she regained her breath.

“You really forgot, huh…”

“Well I don’t go around killing people that annoy me for sport.”

“Yet,” Ayame retorted, and ran another hand through her blood-soaked hair. “Mom said it was to punish us for ‘unjustified killings’. You know how goddamn pretentious she is about making every death something to be relished or whatever. I always think she sounds like a Mishima when she talks like that.”

“Ayame!” Teru laughed with a gasp all over again. “Wow. You are in a bad mood. You’d be killed on the spot for that.”

Ayame didn’t crack a smile, but Teru allowed herself to be even more amused than usual.

“I just think it’s because the bodies are easier to burn when they're in pieces.”

Teru arched an eyebrow and picked up her cigarette from the floor.

“Huh. I wouldn’t be surprised…oh, well.”

Stuffing it in her pocket and grinding down any sign of any ashes, Ayame nodded quietly to herself; at least Teru was always the top brass in being stealthy when she wasn’t being foolish.

“Let's go, then...we can probably leave through the fire exit if we're careful,” Teru says cautiously. “Not a single soul has bothered to come down the hall this entire time.”

“Really? Wow. That's new recruits for you, I guess. All inexperienced fuckwits.”

“Yeah...mom's always saying something like that, too. The newer kids are always acting up in other families. I think us and the Mishima family are the only ones that actually punish them for being stupid.”

Ayame grumbles.

“The Himekawa clan really should be ashamed. Maybe I did 'em a favour.”

“Something tells me you didn't,” Teru laughs weakly, and Ayame can't help but smirk at the dark situation the two of them find themselves in. “This way. And be careful, okay...? Make sure that bag is air tight. We want this situation to remain mysterious for as long as possible. Leaving a red-stained paper trail isn't gonna be good for anyone here.”

Ayame nodded silently; and the two Tokugawa twins made a stealthy attempt at escape.