So I wrote this as a challenge from a friend to combine the scenes from Pulp Fiction with Oregairu, dialogue included. This abomination is the result.

Expect some OOC, some lines are completely incompatible with the characters.

Disclaimer: All Intellectual Properties belong to their respective owners. I do not own anything except for this fic. Yahari Oregairu belongs to Wataru Watari. Pulp Fiction belongs to Miramax and Quentin Tarantino.

Act 0

Prologue

In a dirty little rented apartment in Matsudo, three people stood among the two corpses that laid unmoving and lifeless. Two people, to be exact. The third was huddled near the door, his rapid breathing and incessant mumbling speaking volumes about his current mental state.

"So is that our informant? What's his name?" The girl scowled, irritation clear in her tone.

"Hm? Oh, that's Tobe." The boy remarked simply, still admiring his handiwork by glancing around the apartment. Mission complete; they got what they came for.

"You better tell him to shut the fuck up, he's getting on my nerves."

"Tobe. Tobe?" The shuddering teenager was seemingly lost in his own world, lamenting that he had just watched two of his friends turn into Swiss Cheese. Annoyed, the Assassin called out his name a little louder. "Tobe!" Snapping out of his confusion, the informant looked up only to find twin pairs of narrowed eyes glaring back at him.

"I'd knock that shit off if I was you." The boy growled, eyes slit like a snake's, cold and unfeeling.

Their impromptu staring contest was cut short when the bathroom door burst open, and with it a heavyset teenager rushed out wielding a revolver, a crazed look in his eyes and an itchy trigger finger spasming madly.

"Die, you motherfuckers!" He roared, emptying the weapon as six blasts echoed through the tiny apartment…only for absolutely nothing to happen. The assailant's face turned from a triumphant grin to a horrified stare as his targets stood still as statues instead of collapsing like broken dolls. The feeling of victory he had felt in his gut curled up and crumbled like dust, replaced by an all-encompassing fear. The two killers looked down at themselves, then at each other with visible confusion before turning to their assailant, annoyance and disdain present on their faces. Each fired a single shot, before the girl decided to put one more into the still twitching corpse for good riddance.

The girl grimaced and bit her lip, fury in her expression. Marching over to the still panicking Tobe, she crouched down at glared right into his eyes.

"Why the fuck didn't you tell us somebody was in the bathroom?" She hissed, the thought of putting a bullet right between his eyebrows sounding very tempting. "Slipped your mind? Did you forget someone was in there with a goddamn hand cannon?"

"Did you see the size of the gun he fired at us? It was bigger than him." The boy remarked, mildly astonished. He turned around to face the six staggered bullet holes in the wall behind him. Each was slightly larger than the size of his thumb, a testament to the amount of damage they could inflict. "We should be fucking dead."

"Yeah I know, we were lucky." The girl answered dubiously, her immolating gaze never once leaving the whimpering teen in the corner.

"No no no no, that shit wasn't luck."

"Maybe."

"This was divine intervention. You know what divine intervention is?"

That finally got the girl's attention as she paused, turning around as a smirk started to form on her face. "I think so. That means that God came down from Heaven and stopped the bullets?"

"That's right. That's exactly what it means. God came down from Heaven and stopped these motherfucking bullets."

"...I think it's time for us to leave, Hikio."

Act 1

The immaculate suit-and-tie combo seemed to fit her like a glove whilst he fiddled with the constricting tie like it was suffocating him; he had never gotten used to these stupid things even after a whole year of wearing them daily. The fish-eyed teenager never did understand why people wore these abhorrent nooses to work. Maybe it was poetic of them to hang themselves from literal nooses to symbolize their death - after all, if you work you lose. Yet here he was, returning from another job well done. There goes his dreams of being a househusband. Good grief, they looked like a pair of lawyers or waiters for a fancy restaurant rather than Contact Killers. Which to be fair, was their exact cover story should anyone get suspicious - the suits were lined with these bulletproof kevlar weaves: real fancy stuff.

Sighing, Hikigaya Hachiman glanced back at the shaken mess of a human being that had reluctantly followed them out of the bullet-riddled apartment at his behest. Poor bastard and his pals owed a certain mysterious briefcase to one Hiratsuka Shizuka for quite a while now, which practically meant their lives were forfeit to the collectors she had sent. The debtor, Tobe was his name, shivered slightly as he stumbled towards the car-park, weak at the knees. Hachiman didn't blame him. He himself had shown a similar reaction when he had saw someone die for the first time. Now it barely even fazed him.

How had he even ended living this kind of life? A year ago he was worrying about what the next bi-weekly test was going to be about, and the now he had just finished plastering somebody's brains all over the wall with a bullet. The girl next to him simply looked unconcerned, making her way to the car with an air of relaxed ease despite having just help him murder two people in cold blood; that was Yumiko Miura for you. It was only when the blonde-haired assassin sent him a look of curiosity mixed with annoyance that he realized he had been staring for a bit too long.

"What is it?" She demanded, her gaze unflinching and cold with eyes like chips of jade. Straightforward as always, this girl. Oi, oi, you're going to find it hard to get a boyfriend with that attitude of yours. After all, hot heads and cold hearts never solved anything.

"Just thinking about you." Hachiman replied without properly considering what was coming out of his mouth. The result was an almost unnoticeable tint of red blossoming on the girl's cheeks as she looked away in embarrassment. Unfortunately for him, he completely misunderstood her turning away as a sign of contempt or disgust.

Great, she probably thought he was a complete weirdo now, if she hadn't before. Rolling his eyes, the highschooler simply strode over to the car and opened the door for his partner-in-crime as a sort of chivalrous makeshift apology, which only served to embarrass her even further.

"Thanks." She said quietly, not once looking at him. Internally he groaned, thinking that he had somehow messed things up again somehow. Well, at least their mission was a complete success. They had retrieved the briefcase and captured one of the debtors to tell the tale. He was pretty sure what the boss wanted, though one could never be too sure of what was running through that woman's mind.

"Deal with them however you wish." The Crime lord had stated, waving the two off nonchalantly like the outcome hardly mattered to her. Knowing the woman, it probably didn't. She puffed away at the cigarette in her mouth even in her own personal office, which had been permanently stained with the stench of smoke and whiskey. Damn woman smokes like a chimney and drank like a fish. "Just get me the briefcase."

"Dead or alive?" Miura inquired innocently, apparently more interested in her phone than the lives of the people she had just been ordered to "deal" with. Ah, the cruelty of youth. People only cared about themselves unless it benefited them in one way or another. Any sense of morality or empathy was just caused by one's upbringing because they've been raised to fear punishment, take that away and they would run rampant. He himself had experienced it one too many times to be uncomfortable now. Ironically, all his past problems seemed minor and insignificant now that he had looked death in the eye and dealt it to others.

Miura too, had changed. From abnormal Riajuu to contract killer working for the Family. Can't criticize her too much since he had taken the same path, admittedly for much different reasons. He didn't pry when she had first joined the team after him and certainly didn't intend to start now. Surprisingly, she had taken to the business pretty well; Hachiman remembered just how nervous he was during his first few missions.

"You deaf, girlie?" The older woman leaned forward, revealing her impressive cleavage to both teens as she breathed out a long drag of cigarette smoke into their faces. That's a whole lot of woman. "I'm sure you know what happens to people who don't pay their dues in this city. As far as they're concerned, I am the City.".

He hated when she did that. Not only was it pretty intimidating but it was so damn distracting and arousing at the same time. Hey, he might be a killer but he was also a healthy 18 year old teenager with raging hormones. In fact, nearly any male student in his class would have loved to get a glimpse of the twin peaks of a beautiful older woman. It was practically a fetish one could only dream of happening.

Imagine that: "My Hot Teacher is Secretly a Crime lord Who Wants to Hire Me as a Personal Employee?!"...It sounded like a bad light novel plot to be honest. Probably one of those horrible wish-fulfillment ones that end up becoming successful and even being adapted to anime despite having a completely ludicrous premise and writing. If only Hiratsuka had been 10 or even 5 years younger he would have fallen madly in love by now, as bad of an idea it might be to romance one of Chiba's underground Crime lords. Oh, what a lovely youth romantic-comedy it could have been. He was abruptly broken out of his little daydream when he noticed how silent the room was becoming.

The two women stared at each other impassively, Miura having not budged an inch despite receiving a faceful of smoke while Hiratsuka scrutinized her like how one would observe an insect. The stalemate was only broken when the Crime lord snuffed out her cigarette on a nearby ashtray, the sizzle of ash ominously cutting through the silence like a scalpel. "Those boys have played around for far too long. When I say I want them dealt with, I might as well have said I want their heads on a silver platter. Or a stick, whichever analogy you prefer."

"Can't we leave one alive? Preferably the informant that got us their location in the first place. Y'know, to teach people not to screw with the Family." Hachiman interjected, attempting to defuse the situation between the two. He was smarter than to let Miura fire back a retort of her own; a catfight between the two beautiful ladies might sound hot on paper, but the reality was that they would probably tear each other apart if left alone. The question was whether it would be verbally or physically.

He immediately regretted his decision as both their heads swiveled in his direction, calculating gazes locking on to him like heat-seeking missiles. Oh well, better him than them he supposed. Miura rolled her eyes and Hiratsuka grinned, her Cheshire-like visage looking much like a cat that had found something interesting to play with.

"That's a good suggestion, Hikigaya. I always knew I kept you around for some reason other than errand boy or furniture."

"Oi. I take offense to that."

Miura huffed, folding her arms with an accusatory look on her face and completely ignoring the only male in the room. "Why do you always side with him on these matters? It almost seems as if some favoritism is at work here."

"Well, the boy does have a clean record of a 100% retrieval rate compared to your spotty one." The older woman smiled, showing pearly white teeth despite her daily intake tobacco and alcohol. When she was this close to him he could actually smell some of it on her breath. "I guess you're correct in saying that he's a favorite of mine."

"It was just that one time-"

And there they go. At least they're arguing about a tamer topic rather than grabbing at each others throats. He'd learnt how scary women could be when he walked in on Hiratsuka and another employee locked in a screaming match. Now that he remembered, it was more of him walking in to stop them since the entire level could hear their argument. He had a seemingly calming effect on Hiratsuka when she was angry. How strange, but never gave it any further thought.

Hachiman sighed once more, now fully finished in relieving the past few hours of his life. He'd rather not think about the shootout in the apartment despite how comfortable he was with killing people now. It was rather depressing how much he had changed since he was hired and trained by Hiratsuka. On the bright side, Tobe had stopped shaking after awhile but Miura kept her pistol unholstered in case he tried anything while in the backseat. Hachiman had managed to calm him down by reassuring that nobody wasn't going to get shot for no reason.

"Hey, Hikio." Miura started, a look of boredom etched on her face...which was how she usually looked, actually. Recently almost everyone on the team had started addressing him with that dumb nickname since she had started calling him that. Not only was he employed now, his job was earning him big bucks; how could anyone even possibly accuse him of being a Hikkikomori? Not that I particularly care but a man's pride is one of the most important things in the world, woman - please don't trample on my self-esteem any more than you already have, he thought. I already do it to myself on a daily basis.

Completely ignoring his mental monologue, the blonde continued on without a care in the world. "You ever see that show "Cops"?" She asked. He glanced at her to continue, the inner workings of the vehicle punctuating their conversation with the occasional rumble as he shifted gears.

"Cuz y'know, I was watching it this one time and there was this, this cop on who was talking about this gun fight he had with in a hallway with this guy alright," She continued, waving her left hand about as if to describe the story to him, while the loaded pistol was held firmly in her right. "And he just unloaded on this guy and nothing happened."

She looked over to him, gauging his reaction. When her partner showed no reaction except a nod to her thrilling story and kept driving, she continued on regardless.

"He didn't hit nothing. Okay, it was just him and this guy. I mean, you know... it's freaky but it happens."

"Look Miura, I'd rather not talk about it. In fact, I think I'll take what happened back there as a sign that I should be getting some R&R." Hachiman groaned exasperatedly, one eye on the road and the other on the gun she held. He wasn't particularly happy about the unholstered weapon but he didn't want to spoil her mood now that it got better. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, they say. At least she had to common sense not to muzzle-sweep him with it. In the end, he doubted their additional passenger was going to try anything risky.

"What the fuck does that mean?" She scoffed, her tone questioning yet relaxed at the same time.

"It means that I'm taking a break." Hachiman replied, eyes still scanning the mirrors for any pursuers just in case. "From here on in, you won't be seeing me for the next month except for school."

"Aw come on, that's no fun." She protested. "What about all the adventures we've had together? Besides, being shot at is pretty much in our line of work. It's pretty much an occupational hazard."

"We're high-school students, Miura. At this point we should be more worried on tackling math equations instead of people who owe the boss money. I'm pretty sure you'd prefer shopping for clothes instead of ammunition. Why don't you try doing some normal girly things for a change?"

"Girly things? Pfft, screw that. I'm having the time of my life here and face it; so are you. You've gotten used to the Family life. You've done literally hundreds of jobs by now; you're practically an underground bogeyman." She drawled lazily, folding her arms and unconsciously displaying her sizable goods to her poor partner, which was coincidentally trying to focus on the road and failing miserably without her noticing. "You've been shot at dozens of times before in the past year. Now that I think about it, I was in most of those battles with you."

Which probably caused most of those battles in the first place, he thought. The girl always had a penchant to go in guns blazing or with death threats flying out of her mouth. It was only under his specific guidance that she'd learn to be a little more patient when dealing with others. It was actually less of guidance and more of begging and pleading that got her to calm down.

"Look I just need a break from work, that's all. Today's events have opened up my eyes a bit." Internally, Hachiman despaired. Why did she have to be so sporadic? First she was all cold as ice and now she that she was feeling chatty she'd be unstoppable. Her assets were seriously taking up a huge portion of his attention as well. Why did all the women around him have to be so visually appealing to the human eye, he wondered.

She blinked in confusion before her eyes lit up with realization. "So what, you believe in fate now? Come on, Hikio. Even if any bullets had hit you're still wearing a vest- For goodness sake, remember that time where I pulled one out of your thigh?"

"I'm just saying, it's a sign. Call it divine intervention if you want to."

"Bah, you're freaking out on us." She pouted, leaning back even further into her seat and puffing her chest out simultaneously. Be strong, young Hachiman. Avoid looking lest you fall under the spell of the mountains of madness, giving in to your desire to look would only spell your doom. Keep it cool, Hachiman - don't stare or you'll be dead meat.

"Look, I'm telling Hiratsuka today. I need a break."

"Why don't you tell her at the same time why?" Miura teased, a grin starting to form on her normally stoic features. He had to admit, she looked rather appealing when she smiled. Brings out the light in her eyes- gotta focus on the road.

"Don't worry I will."

"Yeah and I'll bet you 10,000 Yen that she'd laugh her ass off." The girl joked, mirth apparent in her voice. Well, at least she was enjoying all this at his expense.

"I don't give a damn if she does." Hachiman retorted simply. In the backseat, Tobe nervously looked between the two interacting like an old married couple. Hopefully he wasn't going to be shot as long as he didn't try anything stupid.

"Pssshhhh." Miura scoffed, turning her attention to the hostage in the backseat. "Tobe, what do you make of all this?"

The informant flinched as though struck, but did the best he could to answer the seemingly insane hitwoman. "Ma'am I don't even have an opinion." Just play along, he thought. And he just might survive this.

"Well, you gotta have an opinion!" Miura exclaimed and turned around to face him, pistol still gripped tightly in her hand as she did. "I mean, do you believe think that God came down from Heaven and stopped-"

BLAM.

The gunshot rang through the car like a thunderclap, deafening the two for a split second. The rear window was painted red as the pistol round tore through Tobe's skull like wet tissue paper, ending his riajuu life instantly before anyone could even react. The insides of his head exploded all over the car's interior, covering the two in splatters of blood and gore like bits of confetti at a birthday party.

"Whoa! What the fuck's happening..." Hachiman yelled, reaching over to the back of his head and recoiling in disgust when he picked a fragment of brain matter out of his hair. "Oh shit, man!" He flicked the piece of Tobe off his hand quickly, wiping his palm on the dashboard doing little to clean the blood off. By some miracle he had avoided slamming his foot down on the brakes, opting to stare between the smoking gun and the disaster in the backseat with growing panic.

Miura did a double-take and blinked owlishly, apparently just as confused as he was before realization gradually dawned on her. "Oh man, I shot Tobe in the face..." She remarked casually, almost as if she had just spilled a glass of water. The scene was even more surreal considering how calm she was despite being covered in the blood of a person who was just recently alive a few seconds ago.

"Why the fuck would you do that!?" He cried indignantly and glanced back again before turning his attention back to the road ahead. Splotches of crimson coated the windshield and steering wheel, a constant reminder of the absolute absurdity of what had just happened. It was almost funny how things could change so quickly in the span of a few seconds, just like his life had on the day he met Hiratsuka. One moment everything was fine and the next people were dead. Situation Normal, All Fucked Up.

"I didn't mean to do it, it was an accident!" She complained, looking between at Tobe's cooling corpse and her discharged pistol before emptying the magazine and clearing it to make sure no rounds were left in the chamber. Of all the times to commit to good gun safety she had to do it after someone was accidentally shot.

"Oh man, I've seen some crazy-ass shit in my time but this..."

"Chill out man, I told you it was an accident." Miura began to wipe the blood off her face with her sleeve, or at least attempted to. It didn't do much except smear it all over her clothes as well. "I mean you probably went over a bump or something."

"Hey the car ain't hit no motherfucking bump!" Hachiman retorted, shooting her a venomous glare that spoke volumes. Granted, it probably wasn't her fault...probably. He noted that she was using one of those Chinese-made pistols again, ugh. He wasn't even sure of how to react, stuck in a horrific mix of confusion and anger rolled up into a ball of uncertainty that lodged itself down his throat. Deep down he knew he shouldn't fault her but couldn't help getting upset at the sheer insanity of the crisis they were now facing, this as a complete and absolute disaster in his book.

"Hey look man, I didn't mean to shoot the son of a bitch, the gun went off I don't know why!"

"Well look at this fucking mess, man!" He gestured, one hand on the wheel while the other waved to the blood-covered dashboard. "We're on a city street in broad daylight here!"

"I can't believe it, man-" She groaned, starting to look sorry. Sorry for herself, the guy she'd just accidentally killed, or for dragging him into this ridiculous situation; he really didn't particularly care. All he knew was that they were in hot water if anyone noticed. To think that he'd promised Tobe nobody was getting shot. So much for that.

"Well believe it now motherfucker, we gotta get this car off the road!" The assassin scanned the mirrors once more, hoping that no police cars had suddenly appeared behind them in this moment of crisis; that would have been the cherry on top. "You know cops tend to notice shit like you're driving a car drenched in fucking blood!"

"Just take it- Just take it to a friendly place, that's all!"

"This is Matsudo, Miura! Hiratsuka ain't got no friendly places in Matsudo!"

"Well Hikio this ain't my fucking town man!" Miura howled, clearly agitated now that the full reality of the situation sunk in.

"Shit!" He cursed, reaching into his chest pocket for the burner phone. Alright calm down, he thought. No use getting angry at her for something that already happened...to her credit she did seem remorseful for her actions. Right, focus. The important thing was getting to a safehouse. Whatever, they could settle her problems with trigger discipline later if she had any. Hopefully she was right and it was a case of bad manufacturing instead of bad handling.

"Whatcha doing?" She groaned, still wiping off the blood as if it were a particularly nasty spot of dirt that had stuck to her. In any other situation, he would have found a girl complaining about being a sticky mess beside him to be a blessing from the heavens. Right now he was to busy praying for the other party to pick up the phone to care.

"I'm calling my partner in Shimona Farms. He should be on a job here from Hiratsuka too."

"And where's that?"

"It's just over the hill near the outskirts of the city." Hachiman scrolled through the disposable phone until he found the right number and pushed down the call button with a silent finality. It was going to be tough to explain this one. "If Zaimoukuza's ass ain't home I don't know what the fuck we're going do cause I ain't got any other partners in Matsudo."

The ringtone of the small device seemed to last an eternity when in reality it only took a few seconds for an answer. Miura grumbled and sulked guiltily, glancing between the dead body in the backseat, her not-so-faithful pistol and her busy partner. She had screwed up today and she knew it; the least she could do to help him was cooperate. He was always cleaning up people's messes...dammit. She would make it up to him someday.

"Zaimoukuza! Yo! How you doing, it's Hachiman. Just listen up man, me and my partner are in some serious fucking shit man: we're in a car and we need to get off the road, pronto. I need to use your garage for a couple of hours."

The moment the words left his mouth he had to hold the phone away from his ear; the otaku was practically screeching into the other end launching into another one of his famed rants about society and the evils of youth today. "The Otaku Hitman", he could almost see the headlines already if that weirdo ever got caught. The mainstream media would probably blame anime as the cause of his insanity and petition to ban it from production forever. Youths everywhere would then be forced to abandon their two-dimensional waifus or be labeled as dangerous unstable weirdos with murderous tendencies, which in turn would lead to the Otaku Uprising. Zaimoukuza could be the catalyst for an age of darkness and he don't even know it.

"Well if it isn't the great Hachiman, here to grace us with his glorious presence. Tell me brother, what form of intricate adventures have you gotten yourself into this time? I'll have you know that my place is always welcome to the likes of Arbiters such as yourself. After all, it was you who revealed the light and opened my eyes-"

Cringing, he held the phone just close enough to make out what was being said while largely ignoring the chuunibyou tirade that spewed forth from the otaku's mouth like a verbal tsunami. He would tell him about the dead body later after they arrived. If memory served him well Zaimoukuza despised dealing with corpses, highly unlikely he would stand having a fresh one in his house, temporary or not. It would be unpleasant to finally reveal that to him, but he had to lie for now.

Sighing once more the highschooler glanced at Miura, only to find the girl sulking unhappily in her seat. In time he would probably forgive her but he was currently preoccupied with finding the most discreet route to the safehouse based on Zaimoukuza's directions. She still had a lot to learn, it seems.

How did things end up like this, he thought to himself once more. Such Misfortune - It was as if his life was a slippery slope that led him to increasingly insane situations. From lonely highschooler to Crimminal Contract Killer; someone should write a book about his life. Maybe he'd do it himself when he got older and disguise it as a power-fantasy light novel.

The vehicle sped across the land like an arrow, barely keeping to the speed limit as it blazed a path towards their objective. It wasn't everyday that you drove through town with a dead guy in the backseat but hey, first time for everything. Just another strange day of the life of one Hikigaya Hachiman, ladykiller (or so he wished) and mankiller (for real).

End of Act 1

Thank You for reading, it's my first fic. My apologies if the formatting is garbage, I'm still trying out the website's uploading functions. If this gets enough favorites/follows I'll write a follow up chapter titled "Dead Riajuu Storage" starring Zaimoukuza as Jimmie and Kawasaki as Winston Wolfe (The Wolf).

Additional Story notes/references:

Note that Miura never met Hayama in this AU, and thus wasn't friends with him or his clique, including Tobe.

As expected, Hachiman and Miura are rather out of character here due to the lines from Pulp Fiction. The characters have completely different personalities but I've tried to merge them together as best as I could. Not sure if it blended together properly.

The teenager who missed all his shots in the apartment is Yamori, one of Tobe's friends. Not sure if I spelt his name correctly here.

Hiratsuka's "I am the City" is a reference/shout-out to Aria of Omega's line in Mass Effect (I am Omega). Another IP that I do not own.

Miura's "Chinese Handgun" is a Norinco Type-54 (a Chinese copy of the Russian Tokarev TT33) in contrast to Vincent's M1911A1. It's also the weapon that the antagonist of Sword Art Online 2 (Death Gun) uses. Shoots 7.62 x 25, nasty stuff. These pistols were smuggled into Japan in significant quantities and are often used by the Yakuza. I wanted an Asian gun since this story takes place in Japan, think of it as a Japanese Mobster compared to an American Mobster.

In the film Vincent shoots Marvin by accident due to poor trigger discipline. In this fic Miura shoots Tobe due to a misfire by the weapon itself. I like Miura too much to fault her, I'm so sorry Norinco fans.

Matsudo is a real place in Chiba. Shimona Farms is made up.

Otaku Uprising is a reference to the Beta Uprising meme. Reeeee.

"Ladykiller (Figuratively) and Mankiller (For Real)" is part of The Spy's bio in Team Fortress 2.