what a pretty thing

001

A/N: I would like to apologize in advance for the spacing and how I chopped the paragraphs if it makes it hard to read but I promise I tried my best for the upcoming chapters! 

Thank you again, from the bottom of my heart for reading :>>

Character profiles will start next chapter!

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"Tch."

Even though his suit was black, Akaashi couldn't help but feel annoyed as the smallest drop of blood tainted such pristine cloth. He stabbed the body one last time as he mumbled a curse word under his breath. It was a Friday night, a rainy one at that. Akaashi forgot to bring his umbrella, but that was the least of his worries. He spared a nonchalant glance at the body that laid lifeless on the bed in front of him, checked the time on his wristwatch before using the man's necktie to wipe his bloodied knife clean. The lights were dim, the hushed volume of the television was playing in the background and Akaashi was thankful it was breaking the awkward silence. When satisfied, he wrapped the blade with a white handkerchief and tucked it neatly in his suit.

He stood up and started to walk away from the scene, his footsteps echoing throughout the empty mansion. Paintings littered the white walls, along with expensive-looking vases and random sculptures of what Akaashi presumed were animals. Halfway down the spiral staircase, he stopped in his tracks. He was met with silence. But he could tell there was something...wrong. He pauses, his senses sharp as ever as he took a deep breath before he tilted his head to the side and a knife came flying past his shoulder, landing cleanly on the wall in front of him. A second longer and his ear would have been cut off. Having his blood stain his suit was something he just didn't want, or someone would really get it. Letting out a quiet sigh, Akaashi didn't need to face his attacker to know who it was. Again?

"I already said no. That won't change."

Proceeding to walk down the stairs, Akaashi heard quiet footsteps behind him and instantly knew he was being followed. "He won't stop, you know." Shoving his hand in his pocket, he got his car keys, obviously taking no interest in the situation, "I know."

"Keiji."

Abruptly stopping in his tracks, he turned to face his attacker for the first time that night. Akaashi didn't need to ask how this person knew his real name, he saw it coming, but it still irritated him to no end. How dare this person say his name so casually? But Akaashi guessed he was trying to earn a reaction from him, and Akaashi would give exactly what he wanted. After sparing him a glance, Akaashi walked towards the knife buried in the wall, his elegance and grace never failing to entrance whoever it was that had their eyes on him. Wrapping his hand on the handle, he effortlessly ripped it off the wall, his fingers delicately tracing the mark it left.

"Konoha Akinori."

Konoha felt the icy tone in his voice, and as much as he wanted to stand his ground, he was forced to take a step back. Akaashi was inspecting the knife in his hand, eyeing if it was worthy to be kept for his collection. With every second passing by, it got more quiet, the tension grew, and the realization that he wasn't the best person for this mission suddenly dawned on Konoha. "Please, tell Bokuto Koutarou," the harsh sound of the knife stabbing into the wooden table made Konoha flinch a little, "I am uninterested."

When Akaashi was met with silence, he took it as a sign that he got his point across and strides toward the door. He was a minute off his schedule and that completely pissed him off, although it will never show on his face. No emotion ever has. Immediately getting in his car, Akaashi estimated the police would be coming in two hours or so, enough time for him to drop off his coat in the dry clean and make himself some homemade dinner. Of course, he'd have to deal with work emails and budget proposals after, but he'd make it.