Blond-e 'n Purple ft. Haitani Brothers

ᩏꪹꪮꪶꪮᦋꪊꫀ

A/n: I love the Haitani's so muchhhh. I think I'll make a lot of books 'bout them (*´˘'*)♡

⪼FLUTTERING YOUR EYELIDS IN SHOCK in the light of the fact that you've been kicked out of the place that gave you shelfter for the past years – a hiss of indignation left your lips, eyes glaring at the shitty building that stood infront of you.

“Damn, druggies- thinking they were the ones who paid for the rent when they've been living off the money I've been earning!” you hollered, kicking the cans that lied on the cold pavement.

“Well, I'm still glad I'll be out of this shithole. They'd be kicked out anyways.” with an impish grin, you dragged the small ragged suitcase you owned still feeling victorious.

Those druggies were your so-called relatives, thinking that the money they found under your shabby bed had made them a millionaire so they could indulge their selves with their vices. But the truth to that is they were actually fake money you had printed out and hid under your bed.

Such shitty family you have, they even thought of selling you to a whorehouse for their own gain. In a place such as Roppongi, it wasn't a shock that many would have taken an interest in you and might consider you to be one of their items, however you despise jobs that made women forget about their dignity as a human only for the sake of money.

It was always money. Money was the talk of everyone as it is absolutely necessary if you want to live. If you don't have money, you are rat poor. You get to live on the streets with nothing to keep you warm in the cold dusky night, if you don't beg for food you don't get to eat and some even had to rummage through trash cans to survive. If you're rich and got money to waste, people offer you their service. Such privilege are only granted to those who offer large sums of cash and poor people can never dream of experiencing things such as luxuries.

You're one of those people, who's as poor as a church mouse but there is something that differs you from everyone else–

Have you ever committed heist before? To answer that question, yes. Yes, you did. You did it to live, to survive on your own since no one was willing to feed your hungry stomach or offer you warm clothes. At the age of seven you've learned to pickpocket, got yourself involved in fraud and gambling at the age of thirteen and you learned to fend for yourself.

Did you feel guilty about it? Sometimes, yes. But most of the time, you are constantly reminded of the fact that you will never survive if you don't find a way to live whether if that would be by legal or illegal means. The life you were born into wasn't that of a fairytale. Unfortunately, you opened your eyes in a harsh environment where parents toss their children to the street and leave them to starve themselves or either to freeze to death.

“Ah, where should I head to now? The only place where I won't be lost is Roppongi..” you vocalized after a long walk of silence.

You've memorized every routes in Roppongi because you were afraid of getting lost in the crowd and not being able to return to the apartment. You didn't care about that place and the people in it but you certainly cared about the money you've been stashing underneath the sink. You have nothing to worry about anymore since you've got the money and getting kicked out was a plus.

“Miss, are you looking up for an job offer?”

A scammer approached you, blatantly eyeing you thinking he might have just bumped into the perfect victim. You saw that glimmer in his eyes and you weren't a fool. These kinds of thugs were the most common among fraudsters such as yourself and surprisingly you forced yourself to stretch your lips into an awkward and innocent smile.

“K-kinda... Do you know any good offers that pays well, mister?”

He grinned at this, placing a palm at your shoulder before leaning his face next to yours. The desire to use you for his pleasure had you thinking of different ways how to end his pathetic life.

“Yes, you are the perfect fit for it.”

The rotten smell from his breath had scrunched up your face in a digusted scowl, a mocking grin pulled your lips wider as you pearly whites showed along with the malicious twinkle in your eyes.

“Old man, you're breath really stinks.” you spoke slow and smooth, taunting him as you twisted the hand that weighed on your shoulder. His agonized scream enticed you to ridicule him more and laugh at how his face twisted in pain.

“I'm the perfect fit you say...” you chuckled softly, kicking his knees to make him kneel before stomping real hard on his shoulder while you still held his twisted arm. “I know a perfect fit for scums like you... You know where it it?”

The cold metal silver glinted underneath the street light, sharp edges pressed into the latter's cheek as your eyes bore into his in a dilated glare.

“The trash where you'll fall straight into hell...” you whispered in his ears, mercilessly twisting his arm until you heard a satisfying pop that was eventually overlapped by his screech.

Releasing your grip from his wrist letting his body fall limp to the ground, you flipped your long blonde hair peering down at him with utter coldness.

“I would say you're a disgrace to fellow criminals who knows best to never let their intention show.” you sighed in disappointment, wondering where all those power-hungry criminals have run off to. You'd definitely love playing along their sides.

“I'm rather curious whether to call this a crime or a spectacle.”

Quickly looking over your shoulder, twisting your legs to face the unknown strangers your light colored brows puckered in confusion. Were they standing there all the time?

“Who are you?”

You didn't mean to sound hostile but that's just how you greet strangers. You can never lower you guard down around people who might stab you from everywhere at anytime.

“Would you look at that. She's the exact carbon copy as you, Haitani.”

Haitani? Your lips twitched, speculating how that name ended up sounding familiar to you. Where did you even hear that name from?

“You really don't know?”

Exhaling through your nostrils, the irritation that flooded your face was the evidence that he asked a rather foolish question. “I wouldn't ask if I knew?!” you snapped, tone lacing with heavy sarcasm.

“She's feisty alright.”

“What's your name?”

You didn't know why he asked for you name, your eyes narrowing at the shadowed figures a little far from where you are. You contemplated whether to answer or not– but you decide to feed his curiosity.

“y/n.”

“Just y/n?”

The conversation wasn't even going anywhere and you opted to just turn around and say 'ciao' but was curious of who might be the person talking with you from the shadows. But when that person stepped out of the shadows... At that point of time you wondered if you were imagining things or you accidentally inhaled weed back from the apartment. Your lips parted in shock, eyes slowly widened at the person who stood infront of you– purple irises that delved into the identical shade as yours.

Glitches of figures flashed before your eyes before a gasp left your lips. You blurted out a curse due to the fact that you came face to face with none other than one of Roppongi's charisma.

“Holy shit – Haitani Ran?!”