Knock knock

“Come in,” rang a voice from the other side of the door.

The door gently swung open, and in walked a tall figure clad in a pristine white coat. Her black 3-inch heels clacked softly across the floor. A silver-clasped belt cinched an obsidian pleated skirt. Underneath her coat sat a pearl blouse accented with a black collar and ribbon.

She positioned herself in front of the two people in the room and knelt to be at eye level with the smaller figure, a young teenage girl. The kneeling figure carried herself with a blend of youthful grace and mature poise, just past thirty.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Takagi, but you can call me Dr. Kat, if you’d like,” her voice filling the room with warmth and reassurance.

Sharp lavender nails swept through her dark hair to reveal a long silver earring resembling the edges of a sword. The violet inner layer of her bob framed her angular jawline, while bangs curtained dagger-like eyebrows.

The girl’s eyes traveled to the top of Kat’s hands, covered in chevrons of rich indigo ink.

“Hi, Dr. Kat,” sheepishly murmured the girl, entranced by the woman’s features.

Kat’s nose had a prominent but gentle bridge that accentuated her delicate features. A sakura-pink gloss brought out her gentle smile, dotted in four corners by the same indigo ink.

“Are those stars?” the girl whispered, pointing at the dots around Kat’s smile.

Kat laughed softly. “Something like that. It's a bit of my homeland I bring with me.”

"Where's your homeland?" the girl asked, her innocent eyes lighting up.

"Hokkaido, a land in the far north of Japan."

"Wow! That's cool! I wanna go!"

"I'm sure you will someday. It's a beautiful place."

The figure standing next to the girl smiled at her fascination before they spoke.

“Hello, Dr. Kat, I’m Lucy’s mother, Hailey,” said the one standing. “You came highly recommended by a friend. Lucy’s been sweating at night, and her muscles always ache. The doctors gave her pain meds after a surgery, but it’s been six months. She’s still… sick, even vomiting at times. We did everything they told us.”

“I’m glad to hear that you trusted your friend’s recommendation,” assured Kat. “Don’t worry, I’ll do everything I can to help your daughter.”

Kat turned her tender gaze back to the girl sitting in front of her. Kat’s lashes swept over her sharp, dark eyes sheathed with wisteria eyeshadow. The mole below her right eye looked like someone dropped a splotch of ink onto the porcelain skin of a Hina doll.

“Lucy, I need to ask you a few questions to understand what’s going on, just between us. Is it okay if your mother steps out for a bit?” asked Kat.

Lucy glanced at her mother’s worried eyes, then turned back to Kat—her elegant face a symbol of unspoken trust.

“Yes, that’s okay,” answered Lucy.

The mother caressed her daughter’s shoulder before she quietly left the room. Kat rolled over a stool in front of Lucy for her to sit on and lowered it so that she was once again at eye level with the girl.

“I’m letting you know, Lucy, that everything you tell me won’t be told to anyone outside of the office, even your mother. The only time I’ll need to tell someone else is if you plan to hurt yourself or anyone else, okay?” Kat spoke.

“I understand, Dr. Kat.”

“How old are you, Lucy?”

“Fourteen years old, almost fifteen.”

“Wow, you must be starting high school right now, right?”

“Yes.”

“Do you like your high school?”

“Yes, I’ve made a lot of new friends.”

“Have your new friends ever used drugs before?”

“Yes… feels like half the class does.”

“Have you ever used drugs before?”

Lucy fidgeted with the edge of her hoodie before answering, but Kat’s eyes promised no harm.

“... yes.”

“Does your mother know?”

“No, I never told her.”

“Can you tell me how you got these drugs?”

“At first, my friends gave me some to try, but I eventually ran out..."

"Did you continue taking the drugs?"

Lucy's brought the edges of her hoodie up to her face.

"When I said that I wanted more, they told me to go to the back alley of this street. I could find the man there who sold them the drugs."

"Do you remember what this man looked like?"

"I only remembered his tattoo; it looked like a green serpent with feathers."

Lucy shuddered as she tried to recall the details. On hearing the details of the tattoo, Kat’s right hand tightened like a vice around the pen she was writing with. However, she still maintained eye contact with the girl, her reassuring and attentive expression unchanged.

“Did you pay him?” Kat softly asked.

Lucy froze, her eyes welling up with tears.

Kat grabbed a sheet of tissues and gently offered them to her.

“It’s okay, Lucy, take your time. I’ll be right here, waiting.”

Lucy accepted the tissues, sobbing into them for several minutes. Kat sat in ardent silence, waiting for her response.

“I couldn’t afford it, b-but he said I could p-pay with o-other m-ethods.” Lucy choked between her sobs.

When Lucy broke down again, she suddenly clung to Kat. Kat paused, but then pulled Lucy into her arms.

“Shhhh, it’s gonna be alright, Lucy,” Kat hushed, her words barely audible over the girl’s sobs. “I’m right here. No one will harm you anymore. I’ll make sure of it.”

As Lucy’s hands gripped the edges of Kat’s white coat, Kat’s eyes narrowed with wrath.

Later that evening, Kat was standing at the end of the alley. This time, her alpine figure was enshrouded in a sinister black trench coat. The setting sun behind Kat obscured details of her face, as her shadow stretched down the alleyway and eclipsed the man standing in front of her. He was gruff, tanned, and had the tattoo of a green feathered serpent going up his right forearm. He squinted at the approaching shadow, trying to make out its details. When Kat’s face came into view, he bared a nasty grin.

“Hola, pretty lady, what brings you back here? El Quetzalcōātl’s best stuff ain’t cheap, but if you’re willing to have a little fun with me, I can spare some for you,” rattled the man.

“Oh, for some fun, you say?” purred Kat as she leaned over her towering figure to be at his eye level. Her eyes and silver earrings glistened in the dim alleyway.

“You tall as hell, chica, but I’d bet we’d match up in bed. We can head over to my crib right now if you’d like,” huffed the man as Kat rested her left hand on his collar and caressed the man’s chest with her right.

She felt his heart rate quicken as her hand glided down to his belt line before snatching the handgun hidden beneath it. Before he could react, the man felt the air slam out of his lungs against the alley's brick wall.

Kat’s left hand coiled around his throat like the jaws of a panther. Her sharp nails bit into his skin and began to draw blood right around his carotids.

“Is that what you also said to all those poor girls hooked on your drugs, you worthless piece of shit?!” hissed Kat as she jammed the muzzle of the handgun down his throat.

The man whimpered as he choked on steel, his eyes helplessly locked to Kat’s piercing gaze.

She then bent over and whispered into his ear.

“Listen here, pendejo*, you’re gonna tell me the crib where the rest of your amigos hang out, comprende?”

The man nodded as he quaked in her grip.

A foreboding smile slid across Kat's face.

That night, the air hung heavy with the scent of fresh blood and cheap cologne. Kat was silently hovering over a pile of at least a dozen warm bodies in a decrepit warehouse. Saran/paper-wrapped packages lay stacked between more corpses.

Her eyes simmered ragefully while her right hand gripped her custom Nighthawk Agent 2. Its ash black slide was etched with slide serrations. A Trijicon RMR sat atop it, an ominous red glow emanating from the emitter. Smoke eerily rose from the end of the Osprey 45 suppressor. In her left hand was a Microtech Ultratech knife, its murderously sharp silver blade dripping with dark crimson. This wasn't the first time these tools tasted blood, and they hungered for more.

Suddenly, Kat snapped her handgun at the sound of a grunt.

What came to her vision was a dark figure, even taller than her. Its concrete arms locked around the neck of a man desperately attempting to claw his way out. The man’s struggle was futile as his body went limp the next second. The dark figure let the body slump to the ground in front of him.

“Adrian,” said Kat in a low tone.

“Kat, you can’t keep doing this,” pleaded the figure.

It stepped into the moonlight peaking through the cracks of the roof.

His imposing 6’5 silhouette was obscured by a long black coat. He had short, neat, jet black hair that curtained just above his right eye. His eyebrows were the same as Kat’s. A mask covered his mouth and nose while his dark eyes held a neutral yet keen expression. Their glint of youth made him out to be in his mid-twenties.

Kat double-tapped the head of the slumped man without even breaking her gaze at Adrian. The Nighthawk barely made a noise as the slide smoothly cycled the subsonic 45 ACP hollow points. Brass clinked across the cold concrete, rolling into the warm pools of blood gathering around the doctor.

“You could’ve at least finished him off; he was still breathing,” coldly replied Kat.

“Killing El Quetzalcōātl’s small-time narcos won’t bring back Millie.”

Kat shot a vicious look at Adrian for mentioning Millie.

“Shitteru yo*!" she snapped. Her voice cracked slightly, then steadied. “I know, Adrian. But if I can stop even one more kid from ending up like her…”

“You can help them as a doctor, not as a killer.” Adrian's eyes pleaded with his words.

“I'd rather eliminate the problem at the source, so that these kids never have to walk into my clinic in the first place,” hissed Kat. “Besides... killing is all that we’ve been trained for. We’re Takagis.”

“And Takagis are only supposed to operate under direct orders of the Devil’s Hand. Kat, if you keep doing this, the Underworld is gonna know one of us is running around with a personal vendetta. The Fingers are gonna notice your handiwork soon enough.”

“Adrian, your onee-chan* is well aware of what she’s doing. The Devil’s Hand won’t notice some local narcos blipping off the radar here and there. Happens all the time with local gang wars,” waved Kat.

A cold smile crept over her face, her pearl white teeth reflecting the bouncing moonlight.

“Hontō ni*, onee-chan? You've never been the same since Millie died. You’ve been vanishing almost every night since El Quetzalcōātl started expanding into NYC.”

“Adri-”

She froze, feeling the buzz in her pocket. Kat reached for the burner flip phone inside.

“Speak of the devil,” scoffed Kat, flicking it open.

As her eyes reflected the pale light, Kat’s brows furrowed as she read the encrypted message.

“Assignment for Devil’s Teeth operative: Katherine Takagi. Target: Wu Gaa Lau, head of the Lau Triad. Charge: The assassination of the First Finger. Assignment to be completed ASAP.”

“The First Finger’s dead?!” exclaimed Adrian. “How the hell did the Laus pull that off? An army of ex-Spetsnaz and KGB operatives constantly surrounds him.”

“Wu Gaa Lau huh? Quite a bold move for that old fox. I know the Laus have beef with the First Finger… but this? This isn’t their style.”

“This is serious. The Laus now call all the shots in Eurasia, and a Finger has been killed for the first time. This could start a war in the Underworld.”

“Wait… this is too convenient for the Laus; that old fox is too subtle for this,” Kat pondered. “Good thing I’m paying him a visit.”

“Careful Kat, you're a prodigal Tooth, even amongst us, but he’s protected by the Wolves, ex-SDU operatives. The Iron Door also stands in your way. Don't take them lightly.”

“The Iron Door, huh? Don’t worry Adrian, no matter how thick the door is, I’ll always find a crack to slip a blade through.”

Adrian watched the silhouette of his sister, a wraith in the darkness, save for the pale crescent of her smile.