Ultra Blue Violence (Dabi)

Chapter Fifteen: Meteor Shower

Miya walked the length of the Kanagawa district, Nishi Ward, in Yokohama, with the sight of a tall building with perfectly separated glass windows, and prism shaped windows cutting down the middle, rising high above her. The bank of Yokohama.

Miya strutted into the building, shoulders swaying, and carrying a large duffle bag. She stood in line, behind three other people, patiently waiting to be assigned to an area of the bank. Miya gazed around the spacious, and luxurious building.

Having just left her parents house early this morning, the events of yesterday was still fresh on her mind. After all, at least it felt like her relationship with her father was somewhat mended. It still felt a little awkward saying goodbye this morning.

Miya stepped forward, moving up in the line.

Her arms folded into her chest, and with a great big sigh, she earned a look of disapproval from the young girl greeting and directing customers.

An old lady waddled off, and Miya was next.

"How can I help you?" the young girl bowed politely, with a smile, and lips painted red.

"I want to take money out."

The young girl redirected Miya to the escalators to the right, and instructed she head to the second floor, where she would be helped.

Miya lazily leant against the rubber railing of the escalator, as it slowly ascended. A man wearing a grey suit, with balding silver hair, holding a suit case, eyed the young blonde girl going the opposite way to him. He turned his head, following her, as they passed, and her eyes lifted.

"What?" she spat, flailing her hands.

The man averted his slanted eyes, making Miya chuckle. He seemed familiar in a strange way.

She stepped off the escalator, looking down the escalator, watching the man walk through the front entrance. "I could have sworn I've seen him before?" she says to herself. "Hm." she shrugged it off, following the directions she was given, to the second floor, where a row of luxurious offices were lined.

The floor here was marble, and expensive paintings were hung to line the grey walls. Miya looked down at her baggy black sweat pants, tight top, and jacket. She suddenly felt under dressed, or looked like she was about to rob the bank.

She cleared her throat, running her hands through her dyed blonde hair untangling knots to make herself look decent. She took her seat on a black leather couch that creaked beneath her, tucking her hair behind her pierced ears, and waited her turn.

Her eyes ended up studying the painting on the far wall, hanging above assorted plants. Her chin fell into her palm, already growing impatient. Miya shifted in her seat, the leather creaking with each movement, and she crossed her legs this time, and sunk back into the cushions.

The money needs to be untraceable. She told Tomura at the last meeting. In hand, clean, and free to use. That way the government cannot track the money's movement from her account to another suspicious account. Then that way, she said, we can't be tracked.

Heels came clicking into the waiting area. "Kurotaiyo-san." the lady calls.

Miya jumped up, pulling the empty duffel bag over her shoulder, and followed the woman to the first office on the left where a man was sitting behind his desk, eyes trained on his computer screen.

"Thank you." Miya nodded her head to the woman as she closed the glass door behind them.

"Welcome." says the man, keeping his eyes trained on the screen typing on the keyboard. "Take a seat, please." he motioned to the chair on the other side of the desk.