Authoress Note: I am so sorry for the delay! I was pretty much bedridden this past month with a severe chest infection and head cold that just would not quit. I'm still not completely healed, but I had to update when I saw how many people had reviewed, favourited and followed. Seriously, I love you guys. I started brainstorming new ideas for the story, but it got a little messy so I think I'll save those for new future stories.

Also, I changed the chapter name because I thought it fit more. You'll still get answers to your questions, but more will arise, ohoho. Ahem. Poor Itori gets her ass handed to her suddenly at the end. I love torturing my OCs.

Warning: I bumped the rating up to M prematurely because of all the violence and blood in the last half of this chapter, just to be safe.

Disclaimer: Still don't own anything.

Chapter Three;

"Teeth"

POV: Itori

Thursday was my second favourite day of the week for one reason: it came right before Friday, which marked for me the passing of another working week and opened its arms to welcome two blissful, stress-free days. And, after the rather eventful week I'd been having – a bitter family reunion Sunday; saving a woman's life on Monday; slaving away on Tuesday and Wednesday to re-arrange the store and appease our new manager – I was looking forward to being lazy. If I wasn't purposely trying to be a social pariah, I would be going out on Saturday for a drink or twelve while searching for someone new to keep me warm for the night, and I'd spend Sunday assuaging the regular feelings of shame and guilt by doing charity work to remind myself that I wasn't a terrible human being. This weekend, however, was reserved for experimental cooking, eating bad food and watching television with Sumotaro, the hamster who could probably eat a whole cow and then some.

My stomach growled loudly at the thought of food and I clamped my hands down on it, hoping to smother the sound. I had been in a mad rush to get myself ready this morning, as I'd somehow slept right through my alarm, and had no time to grab anything to eat. Because of my tardiness I'd been running on empty all morning, which my body was not accustomed to. My half-hour break was slowly approaching, painfully so, and Hitomi was adamant on not letting me leave until it was 12:30pm sharp. No amount of pouting or sweet-talking had changed her mind. However, I refused to accept my fate of being made to wait four extra minutes and opted to stare intently at the stern woman as she worked, hoping she'd get sick of me and tell me off.

If you dared to look at her for longer than a second you would discover that she was actually a very attractive woman—I almost envied her. Not once had I seen her cut her black hair since I began working alongside her, and its length was well past her waist. Instead of showing it off, though, she usually kept it in a tight bun on top of her head, adorned with two red chopsticks. Coupled with the thin-framed glasses that protected her piercing black eyes, she looked very professional.

Eventually she turned her head to glare at me. "All right, go away. You've made your point."

Success.

With the way my stomach had been carrying on all day, one might have thought I was dying. Even I briefly thought so. Sadly, because of the time, many of the food stalls had lines so long that I would be forced to wait twenty odd minutes before being able to actually place an order. The only shops that weren't flooded with people were all foreign, and I outright refused to eat their food. With a sigh I ran my fingers back through my hair – worst case scenario, I'd go buy a couple of peaches from one of the fruit vendors outside.

But the Gods had a different idea in mind for me.

"It seems like you'll have a hard time getting something to eat," someone whispered in my ear, and I bristled at the feeling of the stranger's hot breath against the side of my face.

Perhaps a little too quickly I whirled around to face the invader of my personal space, almost tripping over my own two feet in the process. I was gobsmacked. "Y-you're one of Shiori's sons."

"Shuichi," the man introduced, his demeanour quickly switching from impish to polite, as he held a plastic bag in front of me. "Hungry?"

Before I could open my mouth to reply, my stomach decided to speak for me in its deep, booming voice. The scarlet-haired man simply smiled and I could feel the blood rush to my face. He ushered me towards a two-seated table that, somehow, hadn't been occupied and set the plastic bag down. Certainly, he hadn't lied when he said that we would meet again – I was a little curious as to how he found me and why he was even here to begin with, but I wasn't going to risk jeopardising the free food. From out of the bag he pulled a styrofoam container and a pair of chopsticks, which he handed to me. He retrieved his own lunch and began eating. I would have joined him, but a small letter on the lid of the box had my attention instantly. In neat hand-writing:

Hope you enjoy the food Itori! You're welcome at our house any time -^^-

-Shiori

I imagined this was how a child felt when they discovered their mother had packed their favourite meal for lunch and left them an accompanying note. No such thing had ever been left for me when I attended school, and I had always been secretly jealous whenever my friends read theirs out to me. I lifted the lid and was met with a face full of steam and the smell of curry rice. When the vapour cleared I realised Shuichi had been staring at me, much like the first time we'd met.

"Did Shiori make this for me?" It was a stupid question, but it was all my overwhelmed mind could muster.

"Yes," he replied. "When I dropped by to check on her she asked me if I could give this to you."

It would have been rude not to eat something made for me, I decided, so I dug my chopsticks in and took a relatively large bite. "Mmph!" I clapped a hand over my mouth. "Holy crap, this is amazing," I managed to say with a mouth full of food. "Your mother's a culinary genius."

Shuichi seemed pleased to hear it, and also a little amused at my reaction. "She is very good. I fear my own skill is not on par with hers. Nowadays it's rare I get to eat such good food."

"I'm a decent cook," I said absently. "I'd offer to teach you, but I think Shiori has me beat. At least with her curry rice. Do you think she'd mind if I borrowed the recipe off her? I know the soup kitchen I volunteer at would be all over this. Gods this is good."

Food made me even more talkative. If I were ever in possession of government secrets and sworn to secrecy, the only way the enemy would ever loosen my tongue would be to stimulate it with a delicious feast.

The man cocked an eyebrow at me. "You do volunteer work?"

"Don't go confusing me for a saint," I said, pointing a chopstick at him. "I'm anything but."

What pulled at the corners of his mouth was a smirk thinly veiled as a smile, of which I was an expert at identifying, and something hiding behind the depths of his unusual green eyes surfaced momentarily. Even if I could read his mind I doubted I could ever understand the complexity of his thoughts – something seemed incredibly off about him; dangerous, even. He could continue dressing in black and red pinstripe suits, but he couldn't dress up the fact that there was something alien about him, something that I was gradually becoming aware of.

For curiosity's and Shiori's sake, I would continue being oblivious. To reiterate the words he left me with when we first parted, 'I imagine we'll be meeting again soon.'

Shiori's home-cooked meal had me comfortably stuffed for the rest of the day and I was in a much more tolerable mood. It was amazing what kind of an impact my positive mood had over the sway of time, and before I knew it my shift was over and I was free to go home without harassment from my new boss. The crowded bus didn't do much to dampen my spirit, even after it broke down a short distance from my apartment complex. I decided I'd just walk the rest of the way home, as did several other patrons, and the driver let us off without strife as he patiently waited for the replacement bus. It wasn't too far a walk, and I was certain I needed the leg exercise anyway.

But, true to the saying, all good things came to an end – in this case, the end came to me abruptly and in the form of an ear-splitting shriek that turned my blood cold. The same feeling of dread I experienced when I discovered Shiori laying, dying, on the ground slowly crept up my spine. When I looked over my shoulder I couldn't see anything—and therein was the problem. I was painfully, eerily, alone. There were no people, no cars, no anything. The high-pitch sound returned in front of me, but there was still nothing there.

'Auditory hallucinations,' I thought to myself, trying to imbue myself with a courage I know I didn't possess. 'That's all it is. Hallucinations.'

The shriek sounded once more beside me and this time I snapped, screaming, falling to the ground and clasping my hands over my ears to drown out the piercing noise. Everything became deathly silent, and all I could hear now was the maddening sound of my blood being pumped through my veins. What was happening? I had never experienced hallucinations of any sort before, so why had I started now? I heard a gentle crunching sound nearby and I suddenly became aware that I was not alone any longer, but I was too terrified to look up, half-expecting something straight out of a horror movie to be standing before me.

"Stand up. Stand up now."

The feminine voice didn't sound nearly maniacal enough to be a monster of some sort, but neither did it sound lively enough to be human. However, the voice seemed vaguely familiar and I peeked upwards to see a face I barely recognised. I eventually obeyed the command and stood up, albeit a little unsteadily. She stared at me with dull, brown eyes devoid of any sort of recognition or defining emotion—eyes I'd never seen on a person before. Her short black hair rustled ever so slightly in the faint wind. I tried desperately to remember her name.

"Chi... Chiharu... Hata... Hatanaka." That was it. Memories broke through the mental barrier and flooded my mind. I dug my nails into the palm of my hands, trying to muster up at least enough courage to talk. "We used to go to school together, remember, Haru? Last I heard you'd moved to a different part of Japan. What are you doing here? You frightened me."

Haru completely ignored everything I had said, choosing only to focus on that last sentence. "Good."

She held her hand up and every ounce of mental strength I had was forcibly sapped away, leaving me cold and my insides quivering. She side-stepped me before moving forward, and my natural reaction was to take a step backwards so I could keep some distance between us. Her actions seemed planned, calculated, as though she were leading me right into a trap of some sort. My fears were confirmed when I saw two brick walls embrace either side of me and I knew she had me where she wanted me – she was a feral cat ready to pounce and I was but a wingless bird with no where to run or hide. I could see my death in those frigid eyes. I'd been told that alleys were the one area most crimes took place and that I should avoid being near them at all costs, a piece of advice I had trouble heeding.

"Do you know what a psychic is, Itori?" she asked suddenly. "A psychic is a rare individual gifted with a power called Territory. Territories differ from psychic to psychic. Do you know what my Territory does?"

Haru's voice was almost mechanical. Something wasn't right. I shook my head.

She continued to explain. "I have what's called a Pain Territory – it only has a small radius, but everyone inside it is completely defenceless. I can paralyse a person with their pain – but not just any random pain. My victims re-live the single most traumatic, painful thing that has ever happened to them."

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up and my frightened eyes widened more. A drop of cold sweat ran down my temple.

Haru hadn't finished talking, and her voice remained void of emotion. "I know what past memory you'll experience. I was there when it happened. I saw it. We all saw it. I pity you."

"Haru, please—"

Her voice cut into mine like a knife. "If you had been spiritually aware you could have prevented our confrontation, just like you prevented me from having that old lady by resuscitating her. But you're not."

"That was you?" I asked incredulously. "You gave Shiori a heart attack?"

"She was only for fun," Haru hissed, spreading the fingers on her extended hand. "With you, I'm serious."

The atmosphere around me suddenly thickened and I felt a strange, warm pooling sensation in my right leg. It was a foreign feeling, something I hadn't experienced in years. Blood circulation in a limb that no longer existed. My gut contracted and I felt as though I were about to throw up, but I couldn't even manage to gag. My body was completely frozen. All unnecessary functions had been temporarily shut down so I could feel the agony unhindered. I couldn't blink or even look away from Haru's blank face and her palm pointed at me. My legs cooled slowly, and the feeling spread to my thighs. I knew what was coming. All I could do was try to brace myself.

Haru's hand jerked suddenly and she snapped her fingers together to form a fist. The cooling sensation disappeared completely.

And then it happened.

Teeth.

Razor-sharp teeth.

My body shuddered and lurched forward and a horrible gurgling sound erupted from my throat in lieu of a pained, terrified, bloody scream.

Teeth.

Sinking in.

Teeth.

Tearing.

Ripping apart.

Over the roar of blood echoing inside my head I barely heard Haru speak again. "It's a pity that you can't scream. I like that part the best. But if you scream, others will hear. There is one way to stop the suffering, though. All I need is your heart."

She suddenly lunged at me, grabbed me by the shoulders, and threw me to the ground mercilessly. I didn't feel her, nor did I feel the impact of my body being slammed into the concrete. All I could feel was a fire spreading throughout my whole body, with the worst of it concentrated in my leg. My eyes burned too, but not with tears. Haru sat unceremoniously on my lower body and roughly jerked my coat apart. She reached into the depths of her dark jacket and revealed a blade of some sort. Without hesitation she ripped apart the top of my blouse, exposing the skin covering the cavity my panicking heart resided in.

I was going to die. I was really going to die.

"I've never cut a woman before. I don't like breasts. But with you, I don't have to worry too much."

And she angled the blade before pushing it through my flesh. From the corners of my eyes I could see what she was doing to my body, but I still couldn't feel anything. My body slowly become numb. There was no more pain. At this point in the memory I must have fallen unconscious. That's how I felt right now, as if I were drifting through space and existing in some other plane entirely, even though I could still hear and see this deranged woman on top of me, carving me up like I were a turkey. Perhaps this was what death felt like. Peaceful. Inevitable. There was no fighting it.

"Hey!"

Haru stopped her work and looked up in surprise, whipping her head back to the source of the voice. My eyes slowly slid shut and I felt Haru move off me.

Slid... felt.

I was slowly gaining control of my body again—the disturbance must have caused her psychic grasp on me to weaken. Unfortunately, that meant I would become aware of the new pain I should have been feeling. I groaned feebly in protest and weakly gripped at where Haru had been digging earlier, afraid that my insides would spill out at any minute. Slowly I opened my eyes again so I could see what was happening.

"Who the hell are you?" Haru asked, brandishing her weapon at two newcomers. I could barely make out the silhouettes of a short woman and a very, very tall and muscular man.

Run, I wanted to tell the people, but I couldn't find my voice.

"You're a psychic, I can feel it," the male said. "Why are you attacking this lady?"

"What business is it of yours? If you get too close, I'll turn my Territory on you and carve out your hearts."

"I'd like to see you try. Spirit Sword!"

Through the building agony I had managed to lift myself up into a sitting position, and I watched as the large, bright orange "Spirit Sword" materialised in the mysterious man's hands. Even if I weren't teetering dangerously close to Death's precipice, I would still have no idea what to make of the scene unraveling before me. Without warning, the man shouted loudly and sliced his glowing weapon through the air. I almost thought he had gone mad and become a victim of Haru's Territory as well, but then the pain in my chest suddenly exploded and increased tenfold. I cried out loudly and pressed down harder on the bloody wound with both of my hands. A litany of silent curse words passed through my dry lips and I curled up against one of the walls. Haru's hold over me had been completely severed. As painful as this was, it still paled in comparison to the teeth.

"H-how..." I could hear Haru, though her voice was fuzzy now in my ears. The wind picked up briefly, gently sucking my hair into a vortex that only lasted a mere second.

The wind stopped, and the man called after her. It sounded like Haru had fled. The two strangers rushed over to me and I felt their hands on my shoulders.

"Are you okay?" came a concerned female voice. "Here, let me heal you."

She said it as if closing up the deep gashes in my chest were the simplest thing to do in the world, but, after what I'd witnessed, heard, and been a victim of, I realised it was entirely possible the small woman had some sort of healing power. I was already dying; there wasn't anything for me to lose at this point. Slowly I uncurled myself and lifted my shaking, cold hands from my chest. They were completely drenched in blood. The woman wasted no time in placing her own delicate hands over my chest, and a warm, soft blue glow enveloped them and licked at my skin. The pain slowly dissipated, as if her healing powers had some sort of numbing effect, but the bone-deep chill, light-headedness and shakiness remained ever present. I looked up at the woman intent on healing my wounds; she had teal hair and her eyes were the colour of blood.

An alien? If I weren't struggling just to breathe I would have laughed.

"Miss, do you know why that woman attacked you?" the orange-haired man asked.

I slowly shook my head, trying to avoid a sudden onslaught of dizziness. I had no idea why Haru had randomly attacked me, or how she even found me. A suicidal part of me wanted to find her again and question her, or at least get a few punches in before she killed me. I owed her that much for trying to kill Shiori.

The woman noticed the black lanyard around my neck and followed it down to my work ID. Her eyes widened. "Oh! You're Itori!"

She sounded as if she had heard of me before and I wanted to question her about it, but my lips were trembling and my teeth had started chattering in response to how cold I was. I doubted anything I said would make sense. The man seemed to be surprised by this too, and he patted the woman's back gently before standing up.

"I have to make a phone call, Yukina. Will you be all right?"

"Yes, Kazuma."

Yukina and Kazuma – those were definitely two names I'd be remembering. Kazuma dug his phone out of his pocket and left the alley to get some privacy. Yukina still managed to smile gently at me, clearly unperturbed by the blood. It must have been something she'd seen a lot of in the past.

"I heard about how you saved Kurama's mother. We're all so very grateful."

I needed to speak now. "Ku...ra...ma?"

"Oh!" Yukina looked flustered for a moment. "Forgive me, I meant Shuichi."

I exhaled sharply and closed my eyes. So I had been right; there was more to 'Shuichi Minamino' than he let on. To be affiliated with such unusual people, he himself would have had to be something unusual himself.

Something like an alien. I wasn't sure if I wanted to pursue his case or not, since I didn't fancy almost dying again, but I knew that Haru was still out there and that her business with me hadn't been finished. My death was inevitable, it had just been delayed for the time being.

Sunday was bad, Monday was bad, Tuesday and Wednesday were both bad, and today I was almost murdered by one of my old classmates.

All I could think now was that I better have a goddamn decent weekend.