Akio and Katsu NPC'd by Sandra
Date: April 26, 2010
Natsumi is told that Saturday's mission didn't go as planned; she isn't pleased.
Greenwich Village Office — NYC
It's a typical Monday morning for most of New York City. In a large Condo-like office in Greenwich Village, a fencer dressed entirely in white as her sword poised against her teacher (who also is her opponent). She advances; the teacher retreats. She lunges; he Passata-sotto and then counterattacks, effectively 'winning' the match. "Less aggression — let your opponent come to you!" he instructs in perfect English.
A single nod is given behind her black-faced helmet as she bows again. This time she waits until he attacks. She counters and fails to the clanging of metal against metal. She lunges again and he evades, but she reprises successfully winning a round. The pair bow before Natsumi removes her helmet, allowing her black hair to cascade out of her helmet, "I think I'm improving." Her tone is matter-of-fact as her assistant comes to her side.
"The men we sent on Saturday are here to see you Ms. Takahashi," it's a simple enough statement.
"Where?" she asks levelly while removing her fencing gloves and passing them to her assistant.
"I left them in your office.
A pointed glance is given to her personal body guards — two large men — who follow her as she marches in authoritatively and assumes a seat at her desk, but says nothing as she positions herself and pulls her hair into a tight ponytail with an elastic she wears on her wrist.
The two survivors definitely took their time returning to report. irst, they had to clean up, then they had to get drunk for what could possibly be the last time in their lives. At the tail end of that, they imbibed in a little bit of opium to help them clarify their story.
What it came down to was fairly simple, the recon people didn't do their job. Whatever the case, their boss is not going to be happy.
As the pair stride in, they keep their confidence and poise. If there's something that she doesn't stand for, it's impropriety. A cultural thing, really. So when they are a respectable distance away, both men bow and then place their hands behind their backs and their feet shoulder width apart.
"Ms. Takahashi," they say in unison. Then one steps forward, he drew the short straw.
Natsumi does believe in propriety so she stands and bows to the men in turn. It's not something she needs to do, but her grandfather would've insisted upon it. Regardless of the men's report it's vital that she maintains an air of dignity. She sits again and instinctively smoothes her pants like she's smoothing a skirt.
A single stray hair is tucked behind her ear as the woman leans forward in her seat behind her desk. Her face is emotionless as she steeples her fingers together and rests her elbows on the arms of her chair.
Dark eyes glance from one man to the other. "Akio. Katsu." Her eyes dart from one to the next and then back again, gaze resting on the gentleman who stepped forward.
It's Katsu that stepped forward, Akio (the coward) who stood behind. Both of them were hedging that the other would take the brunt of the punishment. Giving a brief glance back, the former clears his throat and stares at the wall just behind the woman. It's a measure of self preservation, you don't look a respectable woman in the eye as you deliver heinous news.
"The timing was all wrong," he begins, his voice shaking ever so slightly. It was be ascertained that he is definitely trying to keep himself composed, but the tiny quiver in his voice reveals the fear he has for his mistress.
Swallowing once, the man's Adam's apple jumps in his throat for a brief moment before he continues. "We had the shipment, but their transport was early. Someone tipped them off that we were coming."
Dark eyebrows lift some at the notion of the timing. "Are you suggesting my intel was insufficient?" Her eyes remain on Katsu before Natsumi stands to her feet and pads slowly towards the window. Bad news is always better gauged at the New York skyline.
"Where are the others?" the question is distant, emotionless even as she walks to one of her walls and removes a mounted blade from it. Carefully she feels its weight within her hands.
"Dead, Ms. Takahashi, all dead." Her question regarding the intel remains unanswered, or perhaps it was answered by that. His hands fold tightly in front of him as he waits for her to continue. His report? It is possible that there is none but the fact that Katsu and Akio are the only survivors in the botched raid.
"Please forgive our failure, Ms. Takahashi!" Akio suddenly exclaims, throwing himself on his knees in a rather unbecoming and emotion filled plea for mercy. His voice is much more frightened, he walked in the room alive, he would really prefer to leave the same way.
Not saying a word, Katsu stands as a stoic example of her soldiers. He doesn't even give his counterpart a look of disdain.
Poised, Natsumi's head is held high. She blinks while gauging the man requesting mercy. Turning on her heel she holds the sword in two hands to examine the blade, removing her gaze entirely from the pair. Her lips remain neutral, her eyes even moreso. In fact, there really is no warning when she, in one fluid motion, lunges at Akio — her right hand grasping the handle of the blade, and strikes him across the neck.
The blood is immense and so she steps back in her white fencing gear and glances down at it with a great measure of disdain, tossing her blade towards one of the guards who catches it (and presumably is meant to clean it), but it's only momentary look as she glances between the trio of men — her guards and Katsu. "Cowardice cannot be allowed to remain," her tone is almost sweet like a favourite daughter making a request to her Daddy.
She marches to the door without giving her now-dead employee another look. Yet she remains in the doorway, her back facing her guards and Katsu. "Clean this up." With one more step she adds, "And Katsu — " pause "don't disappoint me again. I'd hate for your children to grow up without a father." And then she disappears destined for the drycleaner.