asunder

two

"You still let that scumbag in?"

A set of gleaming golden eyes narrow into a glare. An unmatched pair meets them unevenly, staring back simply because they must. Chisaki never took too well to being ignored; the detached expression smothered onto Shouto's face was no exception to this.

Shouto shrugs, "He lets himself in. I don't know how."

The features of Chisaki's face twist into something of a scowl, a tinge of disappointment weighing heavy in his tone.

"Ah... disgusting. I go out of my way to get you a decent place just for that asshole to come in and contaminate the damn air."

"Sorry," he mumbles, tearing away from the hardened glare. "He collected your fee from that jewelry parlor. Took his cut though, so it's a little short."

An envelope sits idle on the glass tabletop before them. Shouto slides it past the Shogi board discreetly, just enough to emphasize its purpose as an offering. Chisaki stares at it for a moment, inspecting the gray smear across its paper shell. With a small sniff, the stale metallic scent of cigarette ashes floods his senses.

Shouto watches quietly as an arm outstretches toward the table. It misses the envelope by a few inches; Chisaki's fingers pinch at the Shogi piece as he moves it a space across the board.

"Next time, I'm taking a finger. Do you understand?"

He keeps his gaze firm on the table when he speaks. Shouto can't bring himself to reason with wary words. He dips his head into a civilized nod instead, keeping a steady eye on the gameboard. Mind scrambling in the senseless search of interception--he doesn't exactly know how to play, but he's been doing a good enough job to make it seem so.

Chisaki studies the hesitant twitches of his hand carefully. He waits for a piece to shift on the opposite side of the board before disrupting the space with a relentless request.

"I need you to kill for me."

There isn't even the smallest trace of a shudder to plague his limbs. Shouto trails his gaze up, an eyebrow raised in curiosity. Not that he would ever think to question Chisaki's orders, but this is the first of its kind. He was never asked much of before. The fact of Chisaki's sudden demand isn't something he could help being suspicious of.

"I'm sure you've seen the news," Chisaki continues. "You know, all that stuff about Shigaraki's little band and their 'heinous' crimes against U.A.? With them in the limelight, we've been getting our fair share of disrespect. I even got yakuza turning on me."

"...I don't think I'd be of much help there."

Shouto slides his piece forward without much thought. He had only just recently become an official member of Hassaikai. The other brutes didn't seem to care much for his presence, so he went about his own tasks and paid them no mind at all. The pawn is captured the moment his touch disconnects.

Chisaki inspects the odd shape with a keen eye before discarding it off to the side.

"Get close. Join their group and tear them apart from the inside. The Shie Hassaikai must be the next to rule."

"But why are you asking me? Was I... close with them before?"

He returns his gaze to the board and settles, "I don't know. That's irrelevant, either way. Your job is to kill, not sympathize."

Shouto lowers his head, defeated. For a brief moment, he wanders into the depths of reminiscence, searching for some sensible recognition--there's water, a ghost of consciousness floating to the surface--but finds nothing. That scornful glint dashed across those golden eyes is as far as he could remember. More or less, it's gotten softer over the days he's spent with Chisaki relearning basic tasks and concepts.