Title: Kaho Tokiya
Email: XXXX

Story: "Watashi wa Tokiya desu. Kaho Tokiya." She bowed, sort of, offering only a subtle dip of her head and even milder bend of her waist as she lowered her foxlike gaze. "Doozo yoroshiku." I proceeded to introduce myself in a similar fashion, giving this strange, full-grown woman my name and a simple, 'Pleased to make your acquaintance,' afore withdrawing the old photograph from beneath the folds of my coat, observing warily as she recieved it.

I was beginning to find it harder and harder to believe that this Tokiya woman was in her early thirties.

The peculiar hairstyle, questionable taste in clothing and obviously youth-inspired interests the woman displayed were beginning to make me wonder if I'd hired the right man-- or woman, in that case-- for the job. I'd ordered an assassin, not a former bubblegum-popstar. I led her from the corridor into my office, where we could discuss our circumstances in peace and privacy.

I allowed her to pull up a seat at my desk, my eyes never really leaving the bright pink headband that held back those silken ebony tresses. The manga-styled image of the little star on the front of her shirt sort of deterred me from her, to be frank. Still, the way those dark eyes scrutinized the image held before them told me a tale of one experienced.

It wasn't long before that pale, slender hand offered me back my picture, and those soulful chocolate orbs raised leisurely to meet my own. "She's gorgeous. Why do you want me to take her down, again?"

"Tokiya. You're being paid to kill, to query is another matter," I responded rather coolly, shifting only slightly in my seat, "I'd rather you didn't look this gift horse in the mouth."

A subtle smirk marked the woman's fine and slender features, cherryblossom lips twisted mildly into an expression of casual contempt. "Mr. Kusanagi!" she exclaimed and motioned towards the photograph, which I'd set upon the tabletop, "That's not a very kind thing to say. And to murder such a beautiful woman? You're mad, aren't you?"

I quirked a brow and reclaimed the image of the gorgeous, crimson-haired young lady, sliding it from the tabletop and collecting it from the egde closest to myself. "And if I am, Tokiya?"

"If you are, Mr. Kusanagi, I wouldn't really mind. Many of my employers were madmen, you know, and each and every one of them has a very special place in my heart, and also on my blacklist."

"You're joking."

"I am, Mr. Kusanagi, no need to fret." She offered me a smile, and upon spotting the mug of half-finished coffee upon my desk, grabbed it and without notice raised it to her lips and tilted back her head, downing as much as she could within one gulp and 15 seconds. She hadn't succeeded, proven by the way the tan liquid dribbled down her neck and soaked into her collar.

It was going to be a long, long day.

Comments: Yes, my friends, Tokiya is 33 years old, once a mother, and a deadly markswoman. Don't ask. ^_^" I, for one, am rather fond of her, actually...