AN: Bit more language here. It's more of a set up chapter.
Dreams of war, dreams of liars
Dreams of dragon's fire
And of things that will bite
-Enter Sandman, Metallica
::
Inside reeked of perfume, cigar smoke, and old oil. It was a far cry from the whitewashed walls and tiny, castle-like windows in Aizen's place. Waitresses bustled through the tightly packed floor, dodging throw cushions and sofas with patrons and their hostesses draped over them. Inoue watched a girl with her hair bleached blonde laugh and toss her hair back over her shoulder, placing a hand on her customer's shoulder flirtatiously. Why had she thought she'd be able to do this?
"You'll be fine," Shiro had said as she'd been getting ready. "Just think of it as cleaning one more piece of shit off of the streets."
As tempting as that line of thought was, Inoue didn't like to think of people that way. Even if they were as disgusting as Nnoitra. "You don't care about 'cleaning things up,'" she said, crossing her arms.
"But you do. It's your job, Princess."
"Mine? What about you? You're the one who wants him dead."
Shiro just smiled. It would have been harder to find a time when that razor blade smile wasn't on his face. "I'm just your noble steed, carrying you into battle."
God he was pretentious.
She didn't feel so noble then, slipping back into the dressing room. The tag on the back of the black dress they had found was scratching against her skin, and the makeup on her face felt heavy and awful. Like wearing a mask. And, to top it all off, her blue hair pins were lying on the counter back in the apartment, abandoned.
"Take the fucking clips out," Shiro had instructed, before she'd even gotten a chance to leave the house. "They make you look like a little kid."
Inoue's hand flew up to her hair at the thought of the clips Sora had bought her. Their absence made her feel even more vulnerable.
"Are you still back here?The owner of the club asked. It took a moment for her name to sink in Matsumoto. She shook her head, clucking her tongue. "If you don't get out there soon, you'll miss all the good ones."
Ha.
Without waiting for a response, Matsumoto unclipped her earrings, dumping them unceremoniously into a tin tray on the dressing table that all of the girls shared. A mirror hung behind it, framed in light bulbs. Two of them were out.
"They can be so needy sometimes, you know? This one just kept insisting on buying all of these drinks, Matsumoto laughed, her words slurring. "Not that I'm complaining."
"What about that really tall one?Inoue asked. She had to swallow before continuing. "Uh, the one with the big teeth?"
Matsumoto's tiny nose wrinkled. "Nnoitra? I don't think... You're better off going for someone else."
"No!" Inoue said, too fast. She covered her mouth with a hand, taking a second to piece her words together before continuing. "We've met before."
And you'd still go for him? The question was written all over the older woman's face, but she smiled kindly instead. Her face was flushed deep red, clashing brilliantly with her blonde hair. "If you say so. But I should warn you, he's got a type."
"Type?"
Matsumoto put an arm around Inoue's shoulders, leading her over to a chest in the corner of the room. ๆณฅon't worry about it. We've got everything here."
::
There was no sign of Shiro out on the main floor. Inoue scanned the packed room for a sign, but there was nothing. Pink lights hung from the ceiling and the conflicting smells made her feel lightheaded. In her anxiety, she'd forgotten to eat before she got there. That's okay, she tried to tell herself, swallowing down her nervousness. Just don't accept any drinks. The sooner she could get in and out, the sooner she could get this stupid wig off of her head.
"Blue?" she had asked Matsumoto when the owner brought it out.
"I'd say it's more of a turquoise. Oh come on, Matsumoto said when she saw the look on Inoue's face, ็ was just kidding!"
But kidding or not, the wig stayed.
What exactly am I supposed to do? Inoue stood off to the side, clasping her hands together tightly. What if things didn't go right? What if he never even noticed her? Would she still be considered useful then?
Inoue barely had the time to reflect before one of the waiters beckoned her over.
"Misaki,he said, in a hushed voice. "Table five."
She walked towards the table like a soldier marching towards a firing squad. Nnoitra was there, sitting by himself. The tops of his knees almost touched the bottom of the table, making him look like an over sized praying mantis. When he saw her approaching, he bared his teeth in a white smile.
"Have we met before?he asked, pouring them both drinks. With a sinking feeling, Inoue realized that he hadn't bothered with the wine and champagne most of the other patrons ordered for their hostesses. He had the remnants of a bottle of vodka out on the table.
Inoue moved to tuck her hair behind her ear before remembering the wig. She forced a laugh. "I don't think so. My name is-"
He put his hand under his chin and tilted her head up. Inoue's breath caught in her throat and nausea roiled in her stomach. Her skin crawled wherever he had touched it. "Speak only when you're spoken to, pet."
"I-" His grip tightened. Inoue forced a smile and nodded. Nnoitra smiled again and released her.
"Drink,he said. He watched her hesitate before taking both shots. They burned their way down her throat like she had just swallowed acid instead. Nnoitra immediately poured two more. "I knew a girl who looked like you. She was a fucking bitch. But you've been trained, haven't you?"
Inoue wasn't sure if it was safe to answer. Mutely, she nodded. Where was Shiro?
"You know your place."
She nodded, reaching out for the glass. He caught her wrist, gripping it tightly.
"I didn't tell you to drink,he said.
Inoue nodded, looking down and feigning guilt. The nausea hadn't gone down any, but thanks to the shots, it was accompanied by a strange dizziness. What if he put something in there? The more she worried about it, the less thought-out Shiro's plan became.
"What kind of fucking pet doesn't know how to listen?" Nnoitra asked in a hiss. "You don't ever fucking listen do you, you stuck up bitch?His grip on her tightened and he pulled her in closer. The smile was still stuck on his face, but there was anger bubbling up beneath his voice. "You think you're better than me, don't you?His words were slurring together, and she could smell the rest of the vodka on his breath. "Don't you?"
The backs of her eyes stung. She nodded again, shaking.
For the moment, that placated him. Nnoitra leaned back in the chair, closing his visible eye. The other one was hidden behind a sheet of greasy looking hair. Inoue exhaled, shoulders slouching slightly.
"We know what you are anyway,he said, still with his eyes closed. Nnoitra sat up again, grabbing her arm and pulling her closer again. It took all of her self-control not to flinch back. She could hear Tatsuki's voice in the back of her mind, shouting, his guard is down, go while you have the chance! But that chance would have been slim anyway. It didn't take a genius to guess that he was carrying something on him. "Right? Right?"
"Yes," she said, keeping her eyes downcast.
"Good," Nnoitra replied. Before she could think of anything else to say, anything to keep that ugly temper from rising again, he had grabbed her face again. His lips were chapped, and his breath still reeked of alcohol when he kissed her, and every bone in her body screamed for her to get away from him. His tongue was still cold from his glass and everything about it was just so wrong. Inoue had been about to quit and bite down on it when a voice interrupted.
"Will you be needing another bottle?"
Inoue was almost relieved to see Shiro standing there. He still had on his sunglasses, even though they were indoors.
"I'll fucking tell you when I need one," Nnoitra said, releasing her. Dear God was his breath awful.
Shiro's smile didn't falter. Inoue tried to catch his eye, but he wasn't looking at her. "Alright, just let me he stepped around Nnoitra's foot, the glasses he was carrying slipped off of their tray. Nnoitra barely had the time to jump before all of them spilled onto his lap, spattering his white pants with red.
"My apologies-Shiro reached out with a napkin to try and dab the stain up.
"Fucking hell!He shouted. Nnoitra banged his knees against the table, sending their bottle to the floor with a crash. Quiet had fallen all around them, like someone had turned off a switch. Inoue scooted away from him, thankful for the distraction. Nnoitra's face was red now, and he shoved the table away from him to stand up. "That the fuck is wrong with you?"
Nnoitra towered over Shiro, but if he was intimidated, the white-haired man gave no sign of it. "Again, my apologies."
"Apologies?" Nnoitra shouted. Spittle flew from his mouth. "That's all you're gonna say?"
"Is there a problem here?" Matsumoto appeared behind Inoue, putting a protective hand on her shoulder.
"You see this!" Nnoitra said.
Matsumoto was calm. "We'll cover the cost of your laundry. And the next time you come here, you'll get fifteen percent off. Is that okay? Here, come with me."
The tall man looked like he was ready to protest, but everyone's eyes were on him. Still red, he settled with knocking everything else off of the table before storming out the door on his own. Matsumoto sighed and squeezed Inoue's shoulder.
"Don't worry about that,she said into the younger girl's ear. "We deal with ones like him all the time."
No, you really don't. Intead of saying anything, Inoue just thanked Matsumoto for standing up for her.
::
Shiro was waiting outside in the car, smoking a cigarette. He dropped it out the window when he saw her climb in. His sunglasses were folded up next to him, and she caught another glimpse of his weird yellow-ish eyes.
"The good news is, you won't have to deal with that again,he said.
Inoue sighed, resting her forehead against the dashboard. "I don't even want to talk about it."
Matsumoto had fussed over her for an hour afterwards, her and the other girls constantly asking if she was okay or if she needed anything. Inoue was bombarded with constant reassurances that things didn't usually happen like that, and that if she wanted to take a few days off, it was fine. She almost didn't have the heart to tell them that she wouldn't be coming back.
"We'll split it sixty-forty. You'll get the sixty. You deserve it after that. Look in the glove compartment."
Inoue lifted her head up, taking a deep breath. The compartment came open easily, revealing a manual, insurance papers, and "his wallet?It seemed hard to believe that Nnoitra would even own something so normal. Her mind jumped back to Schiffer and the business card he'd handed her. That all felt like a million years ago.
"ID, home address, everything," Shiro said. "Now we've just got to corner 'im and get the rest. Shouldn't be too hard. I saw someone special inside."
She took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders. ็ want my own gun. If something happened before you showed up...she didn't even want to think about that.
Shiro nodded, grinning. ็ knew you had it in you."
"It's not that. It's for protection,she said.
"Well if you'd like to do the honors for Nnoi-whatever, then go ahead," Shiro said. He started the car up, turning the headlights on. "Bounty's fifty-thousand. And you should see the one on his friends."
Inoue turned to stare at him. "Who's paying you for them?"
"What happened to not asking too many questions?" Shiro asked. "I'm keeping it from you for your own good,he added. These people... they don't like being asked too many questions."