Reap What You Sow / A BNHA Story

Chapter 22

Hotaru's POV

My employees whispered about me in my office when they thought I wasn't listening. They never ceased any opportunity to belittle me to their coworkers, their equivocal gossip was one of pure boredom, a means to an end to their dull and drab lives. I was the one that gave them any purpose, an opportunity to strive for a contentedness few people ever sought out. Sinister, they called me. Immoral, iniquitous, corrupt. All synonyms led to the same conclusion that I was pure evil. Hypocrites! As if I had misled them when recruiting their services. My intentions were clear and so was my job, they were more then eager to be of value to Canada's top crime syndicate - disguised as a popular broker firm - when I first hired them. Still, they insult me behind my back, take advantage of my generosity, and fail to meet demands on time which really is a slap to my face. Have I not given these people a reason to respect me? Do they not know of my story? Does my name not instill dread? That cannot do. Not for all my family made me to be, and certainly not for what I am yet to become. 

"Clean this mess before they start to stink up the room." I scoff at the speck of blood stained into my cuffs, trying to scratch it away to no avail. 

The man nods his head curtly, wincing as two bodyguards retrieve the three bodies lying utterly still on top of one another. He begins to soak up the blood already seeping into the cracks of the floors, repeating the process until his towel comes up clean. I don't bother paying attention to what else he does, going into a room in my office for a clean pair of clothes. What bother, it certainly wasn't my cleanest work, but I got so stirred up this time around; though I was no stranger to anger clouding my better judgement. For all the sick acts I commit, I was honorable in my ability to assess my own character. I choose to lose the blazer, rolling my fresh dress shirt sleeves up my arms while walking to the mirror, frowning at the reflected image. My dark purple hair was more unkempt then usual, the waves covering the front of my face. I opened the mirror to fetch some gel, slicking it back with only a small piece sticking out. My undercut was due for another trim, but I could go for another week before I started to look raggedy. I gripped the edges of the sink, suddenly overwhelmed with the fatigue that travelled its way through my body. I rarely slept these days, but I had no dark circles to show for it, nor was my performance at work any less perfunctory. But every body had its limit, and mine would no sooner collapse if I continued to choose caffeine as my main form of sustenance. I look up so I'm staring at my reflection, only its my mother I see when I look in the mirror. Or the resemblance I share with her at least, traits I share with all the Murakami's, save for my father, brother in law and wife. Purple hair, purple eyes, tanned skin. A memorable look, one I decided not to part with when I left. 

It had been 4 years since I left Japan. Not long before, I had a dispute with the family jewel, Sunako Kaida. She was reckless, everything was a game to her. Our missions, our lineage, our name. She was in it for the thrill, the adrenaline as she took life after life. Albeit deserved ones, but murder no less. I don't recognize the person I was then as I look at myself now. I was young, naive, devote to my mothers legacy. I woke up every day prepared to die for her, and went to bed every night hoping I did her justice. The day Sunako Kaida entered my life, everything changed. The title that was promised to me by right, was taken just as easily, by some gut feeling Chiyo had. I never stopped resenting Kaida, and it's only a shred of loyalty that bounds me to my feet now. I had promised everyone who stood in the foyer that day that I would soon return to claim what was mine, if Kaida had not inherited the position by then. I chose my path but I would not forsake that of the others under my conditions. I made a vow to stand down, to let them hide under the shadows and pray for their false heroine to save them. But time was running out, AFO had contacted me earlier today pushing me to move forth with the plan, one more week I had told him. I'd give my family one more week to come to their wits end, but I'm afraid there's nothing I could do. With or without Sunako Kaida, the deal my grandfather made with AFO all those years ago was expiring.