Mastermind | Chuuya Nakahara.

TWELVE.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
CHAPTER TWELVE:
I'm gonna get a restraining order.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Aki had showered and dressed herself for the occasion. Mori had sent the details of the mission to both her and Chuuya. They were to dress appropriately for the mission, as to blend in with the fellow gamblers at the casino. Aki hadn't been too sure what to wear, being too spoiled for choice. So after finding Gin and Higuchi in the kitchen, she had asked them for their assistance. They couldn't refuse the offer to dress up the woman, not when she was as pretty as a doll, and so, they had willingly agreed. It also gave them the opportunity to spend more time with their newest coworker they hoped to make a friend of.

The three of them were sitting in Aki's bedroom. Gin was doing up the zip on the back of Aki's dress who stood in front of her floor length mirror whilst Higuchi sat on her bed, her legs crossed in a basket and a magazine between her fingers.

The blonde glanced upwards, her eyes landing on Aki before widening, "That's the one." She declared, taking in the dress Aki had slipped into—well, not exactly slipped into, because it hadn't been easy. The dress was fucking skin-tight.

Aki turned to face the blonde woman, smoothing the dress out, "You think so?" She asked her, holding her arms out. Higuchi feverishly nodded in approval.

"Hell yeah—I mean, you looked good in all of them, but this one is the one." She insisted, her eyes soaking up Aki in the dress. It was the same shade as the ribbon she usually wore around her neck, though, she had swapped the usual red ribbon out for a black one that night. The dress clung to her figure, sucking in even the tiniest of fat on her skin, showing off her perfect figure. It was strapless, the chest square in shape, the bottom of the dress stopping just below her ass—one wrong move and she would be revealing everything underneath, hence why she had chosen to wear black skin tight shorts underneath. On her feet, were a pair of black shiny heels, propping her up an extra inch or two.

"You're so very pretty, Akira." Gin told her softly, settling her hands on the woman's shoulders. She wasn't wearing her mask again, showing her beautiful and youthful face.

"Pretty," Aki repeated, almost puzzled. She reached up, scratching the back of her head. "I think that's the first time anyone's ever called me that." She said, trying to rack her brain for a time someone had called her pretty. But she couldn't remember a single time, which meant it had never happened before. Aki had a great memory.

Gin and Higuchi exchanged shocked glances, "What?" The blonde squeaked, scrambling off the bed. "What do you mean? You're so pretty. Doesn't everyone tell you that all the time?" She couldn't comprehend the idea of someone that looked like Aki not being told she was pretty every single day of her life. The mere thought was pure insanity.

Aki blinked, "No. I mean, I've been told I'm sexy, hot, that kinda thing. But no one's ever really said I'm pretty before." She told the woman, an equally confused look on her face. It felt like the compliment of the century. She was used to creepy men hitting on her, telling her she was the sexiest thing they had ever seen before she eventually put a bullet between their eyes. Pretty was an odd word—it felt so girly, something Aki hadn't had the privilege in indulging in. She had always been feminine, as a female assassin, it was something she had to use to her advantage. But she had never just felt like a girl before.