it's in my nature {Tangerine | Bullet Train}

nine. the scorpion. sit. shake. roll over. beg.

Why does her chest feel so hollow when she knows it's not even her fault?

The desire she'd held to keep his conscience clear about New York wouldn't - couldn't - hope to account for the countless jobs he and Lemon had taken on before and after. It was as if she could so conveniently forget that The Twins' reputation could very well rival her own.

We're monsters and we live with it.

The Shinkansen's door opens with barely a hiss, subtle and mechanical as it always was, allowing Tangerine to step out onto the platform. Following a step behind, Clementine watches him pull a lighter from his pocket, and refused to think about how she'd passed the point of no return with someone she'd tried to care about. Again.

After taking a draft of the cigarette, Tangerine offers it back behind himself, as if out of instinct, as if to reminder her to keep up, all at once. Desperate to feel something, fucking anything, that isn't the hollow ache in her chest, Clementine takes it.

The smoke and nicotine hit the back of her throat as they're both pulled into her lungs, tasting like ash and relief, the faint sizzle and red-hot seat of the end of the cigarette grounding her as she peered around Tangerine to take a look at the men sent to confront them.

"You were all told to exit the train," the asshole with the spiked jacket, the presumed leader of the pack, spits at Tangerine. Freelance contractors by the look of the lot of them, all called together at the last minute to put together this intimidating front.

"Yeah? Well, unlike you, I'm a professional," there's not a shred of hesitation or hint of nerves in Tangerine's voice, his demeanour backing up his words with ease, "we wanted to make sure it weren't some Yakuza trap, but clearly not," he sounds annoyed but his wording has drawn the intrigue of the others as he continued, "it's some fuckin' '80s dance-off, innit?"  

We.

Of the few Clementine recognises, including their leader, they all seem to zero in on her, finally noticing how she's shadowing Tangerine a few feet back. Even despite the open hostility of the confrontation, the air seems to grow noticeably colder once they began to recognise her, one by one.

"Where's your twin? Tangerine?" Their presumed leader narrows his eyes, looking past Tangerine to Clementine.

"You and I both fuckin' know it's not her," Tangerine sounds like he's growing exasperated, "and I'm Tangerine, Lemon's on the train, keepin' the case safe."

"You weren't asked to bring a bug," the asshole with the bat sneers beside his leader, still looking past Tangerine to Clementine. When Tangerine turns, he sees the way she's chosen to stand, hip cocked, expression blank. With one arm resting, tucked across her chest, the other is propped up on her hand, cigarette in her loose grip as she rests her chin on her gloved hand. For the moment she chooses to meet their accusers gaze. With a slow blink at the man across from them, her expression turned stony, turned challenging without any obvious change, a skill she'd mastered a long time ago, and she tilted her head ever so slightly, scrutinising him. 

"Arachnid," she corrects flatly, in Japanese. Then, very suddenly, without any other movement, her gaze flicks to Tangerine, and she nods. Understanding passes between them.

"She's an arachnid," he reiterates firmly, expression mirroring Clementine's as they both turn their attention back to the group of mercenaries.

"That wasn't part of the deal," gets hissed, maliciously at them, "the fuck is The Scorpion doing here with you?"

"Her fucking job."

Clementine let's her gaze roam over the pack as Tangerine matches their leader's energy. The group of would-be assailants looks them over with a new but obvious discomfort as they all properly reassess the situation. revaluating them both with this new information. Now, instead of staring, a good deal of them averted their gazes when Clementine caught them looking her. Rocking back on her heels, she lets herself grin, let's them believe she's revelling in this moment and their discomfort.