Caught

Chapter 2: Underboss

The bus ride went by surprisingly smoothly. Clouds began to separate, allowing rays of sunlight to seep through. Arianna woke to the sound of bustling crowds by the Shibuya Crossing. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. Out the window, the view was strangely breathtaking. Tokyo's flashy buildings surrounded streets with people dashing here and there like busy ants.

The bus stopped a few metres away from the overloaded crosswalk. It let out a what seemed like a sigh from the long trip and mechanically opened its doors. All the passengers stood up and scurried to exit the bus, leaving Arianna the very last to get off. She stepped onto the smooth concrete sidewalk and took a look at her surroundings.

The entire city square was a sea of scuttling pedestrians. Their conversations fusing together with the music blasting from stores and restaurants. With her hood still up, Arianna made her way through the crowd. No one had seemed to pay attention to her, except for a few occasional glances.

In the middle of the crossing, the noise was much louder. People were calling out to each other and venders shouting and handing out pamphlets. City lights were dulled by the recent sunshine, as the sky began to clear.

"Hello! 何かお飲み物はいかがですか?" a young boy tapped Arianna's shoulder. Arianna turned around, trying to hide her wariness. The boy gave her a wide grin and held out a bottle of melon water. Arianna didn't know very much Japanese, but she assumed this boy was trying to sell her a drink.

"Not expensive! Very cheap," he urged, "150 円だけです!" With a shrug, Arianna payed the melon drink. He flashed a toothy smile and gleefully handed her the bottle. "Thank you!" he grinned. Arianna gave him a nod and a small smile, and continued through the streets.

Pausing beside a cement building, Arianna took a sip of her drink. She was supposed to meet up with her friend at 12:00pm. It's truly amazing how even someone as heartless and cold as Arianna could still make friends.

"Hey, is that melon soda?"

Arianna whipped around to face her gang members; a short, slim woman and a broad shouldered man. "You're late," Arianna commented. The small woman laughed and crossed her arms, but the man remained expressionless. "Yeah, sorry about that," she said, "this kid back here didn't want to leave his mommy."

"Zara!" the man protested. His stone hard face replaced by a flustered, embarrassed look. "My mom needed my help and you wanted to drag me over here. None of us had to come here in the first place. Arianna is perfectly capable of herself-"

"Oh, shut up, Miles," Zara snapped, "your mom is also perfectly capable of taking care of herself, too. She's the underboss after all."

"Yeah, Arianna is, too, basically."
"No, she isn't."
"Yeah, she is."
"I told you to shut up."

Arianna straightened her back, "you can both shut up." Zara and Miles stared at Arianna for a brief moment. It was hard to tell if they were looked at her with bitterness or amusement. Zara smiled and fiddled with a strand of her silver blonde hair. She was like a cute doll. Her baby face and petite features granted her a youthful impression. Nobody could suspect her as a savage criminal.

Maybe that's why Arianna felt closer to her than others. They both have a cold-blooded demeanour. Though Arianna's dark side is a little more obviously shown than Zara's. As for Miles, standing awkwardly next to Zara, Arianna didn't know him too well. She only remembered him as one of the heirs of the Streaks, as his mother was second-in-command. Although, Miles resembled nothing like his mother in the very least. His long nose, brindle hair and full assets doesn't match his mom's thin and and fragile features.

"Alright, let's get down to business, then," Zara yawned and leaned against the wall, next to Arianna. "How'd it go with the Nightleys?"

"He's got us covered," Arianna replied, "I don't think he has the balls to turn on us. So we should be good and ready to go." Miles stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked towards the sunny sky. "That's good. But I we hardly know him or his gang," he noted, "I don't get why were relying on him."