Start heading home.

After a few more minutes of chatting with Ryouna about the events that just transpired, the two of you decide that you should head home and get some rest. Since you’re excused for the rest of the day you decide to make the long walk home. Tomorrow, you and Ryouna were going to be at Gessen academy, posing as exchange students and siblings. And though your mission was to locate sensitive information about the school, you weren’t sure you wanted to do that.

You had been roped into being an Akunin basically against your will. You don’t necessarily regret being trained in the shinobi arts, but after you graduate, your life would be one that was paved with blood and ****. There was a lot of money in that, but the morality of it made you sick. You had no desire to harm the students at Gessen academy, because in all honesty you were rooting for them more than yourself.

But now you have these earrings. While they didn’t make you immortal or omnipotent by any means, especially when there was another shinobi out there with earrings too; they did make you able to establish an awesome life for yourself without bloodshed. It would be no problem at all to walk into the office of a megacorporation’s CEO and say that it was normal for him to send you a cut of his own paycheck every month. With that kind of money, you could get anything you ever really wanted. You could buy and maintain a mansion filled to the brim with gorgeous women you had made into your personal fuck-toys. You could do this without ever needing to take up arms again, except to defend the ones you loved.

As you walked along the sidewalk of the shopping district, lost in your thoughts, someone caught your attention. She was shorter than you, but had some nice curves, sitting at about a Japanese E-cup with alabaster skin and mint-green hair. The most peculiar thing about her was her yellow eyes, which looked like the eyes of a snake. They must be pretty high quality contacts. She was wearing a French maid costume that had a pleated knee-length skirt and a very low-cut top that showed off an incredible amount of cleavage. In addition to the unusual uniform, she was also wearing a completely deadpan expression that didn’t seem to change. When she spoke to you, her voice was monotonous and almost robotic.

“Good afternoon sir, if you like your tea served hot by busty women in uniforms, this is the place for you.” She didn’t sound terribly enthused about what she said, but you got the feeling she was never enthused about anything. She gestured to the building behind her.

After prying your eyes away from her curves, with some degree of difficulty, you see the reason she was dressed as she was. The building she gestured toward was a maid café. You had never really considered going into one, not because they didn’t appeal to you, but just because you had always been afraid of someone you knew recognizing you going into one. Everyone knew exactly the kind of people who frequented these places. People like Uchika, or what Uchika will become when he grows old. Now it didn’t matter though. You gave the young woman a smile and walked inside.

You were greeted on the inside by a very different-looking woman. She stood about as tall as you with dark green eyes, light brown hair that was down to her neck and curled inward at the ends. Adorning her hair like a crown was a large pink bow. Her tits were huge, If you had to guess, they were probably in the Japanese I-cup range. Your normality to remove back pain must have done wonders for her.

You were staring.

“Hello there sir, and welcome to the La Noir café.” Her voice was delicate but seductive, a true siren’s song. “The woman attached to the breasts you’re ogling has a name, and its Haruka. I’ll be your server for the afternoon, please come with me.” She led you over to an empty table and set down the menu. You seated yourself and watched as Haruka bowed deeply, giving a fantastic view of deep cleavage, and walked away toward the kitchen with elegance and grace.

You took a look at the menu, deciding that a black tea sounded nice. You weren’t hungry since you just got done with lunch, though some of the food they had sounded kind of tasty. You might have to frequent this place more often, especially if the view was this good and the staff was this friendly. By the time you had decided on something you noted that the last customer had left the café, leaving just you. At this time of day you weren’t surprised, and there didn’t appear to be much staff on duty.

After some time Haruka returned to you and took your order. You decide to take advantage of your earring’s powers and grab one of her bountiful breasts in your hand, enjoying its softness and elasticity. She walks away again, smiling back at you as she does, going to prepare your order.

Something occurred to you the second time you saw her walking away. It may have just been total coincidence, but you noted that you had a hard time finding any **** openings on her. With the way she was situated she could easily deflect an attack from almost any angle. You only noticed this by virtue of your shinobi training.

When a shinobi goes through training one of the first things they teach you is how to be on guard at literally every moment. Eventually, being on guard becomes your default stance. You’re always aware on a subconscious level of where your openings are, what your center of gravity is, when you are breathing in and out, how loud you are breathing, and so on. The difficulty ends up being how to make it look like you aren’t constantly aware of those things, since most people aren’t aware or even care about those things. Someone who is constantly rigid and ready for battle at any moment would stand out. Once you learn this, you can go through everyday life and almost everybody won’t know that you’re constantly thinking about your general readiness. But because all shinobi have gone through that training, they can spot when someone else is faking a casual stance or casual movement, because they have to do it constantly themselves.

This wasn’t quite the same thing though, she definitely didn’t look like she was faking her stance, it was just interesting that you could imagine her blocking any attack you threw at her without much effort despite her casual stance. Maybe she had rudimentary martial arts training, it’s not uncommon for women these days.

Haruka finally returned with your tea and set it on the table. “Here you go sir, go ahead and take a sip. I’m still kind of new at this, so I want to make sure I did a good job.” You’d heard that making proper black tea the right way was a bit hard to do, so you understood perfectly. You lifted the cup up to your lips, but then stopped.

It was poisoined. You could smell the difference in the aroma, it was sweet but stung your nose a bit. You even recognized the poison, you didn’t remember its name, but it was the same kind they teach you how to use during shinobi training. Nobody would know how to successfully take advantage of its poisonous properties unless they were trained at Hebijo. This woman was a shinobi.

You set down your cup again. “Is something wrong sir?” She asks.

“You know, it’s pretty rude to try and poison a paying customer.” You give her a knowing look and you see a fiendish grin crawl up the corner of her lips.

“You’re a shinobi from Hebijo, and I am a renegade. Do the math.” It wasn’t hard math, you were a liability at this point.

“I have no intention of turning you in or ratting you out.” Luckily one of your hands was in your pocket. You began to summon some razor wires, setting them up around her. You weren’t lying though, you didn’t want to hurt her, you only set them up defensively.

“I don’t know if I can trust your word on that, after all, two people can keep a secret if one of them is dead. You can either die by drinking that tea, which will kill you quickly and painlessly; or you can die by my hands, which will be slow, agonizing, and just a little bit delightful.” She licked her lips.

“Or, we can agree on a third option that is to our mutual benefit. If you don’t trust me, why don’t you get to know me?”

“Are you asking me out on a date?” She chuckled a bit. Her voice was intoxicating.

“It’s either you go on a date with me, or you personally try to kill me. Make no mistake, I know you could do it, but I’m not the kind of guy to go down without a fight.” you twitch one of your fingers, making one of your wires flicker in the light, making her aware of it. “I’d really hate to see that beautiful skin tarnished with deep cuts.” you smiled amicably enough.

She cooed. “I like it when they struggle… but you’re right. I work hard to keep up my appearances.” She walks over to the other side of your table and sits down across from you. “I’ll play your little game, but know this: I am not playing just for myself. I’m doing this for the safety of my friends as well, and I don’t mind getting a few scars if it means protecting them from harm.”

You nod. “So then, ask me anything. I’m an open book.”