Queen of the Night

[madimpossibledreamer]

It's weird.  I really, really like writing this version of Buffy.  It probably has something to do with the fact that, well.  Earlier I'd speculated that she's Daigo, stuck in the Chairwomanship position and doing her best.  And while she is kind of Daigo, she refused to completely be Daigo because she feels completely in control of her own destiny.  In the show, for me that had only started feeling true when she did the same thing she did here, (spoilers) kicked the Council to the curb (hence the one point where she directly quotes herself as a reference), except not really, because of stuff I've already talked about in this post.  Buffy almost every time we saw her was dependent on romance and not allowed to grow as her own person.  If it had felt less like a teen series by the time they were in college, it probably would've been better.  (Not that college kids have it all together; I certainly didn't--but they are figuring out who they are as adults, which felt less so.)  ...Actually, nah, most of this is probably that no one knows how to write romance, because there's a whole lot of "we know who these people are as couples but not on their own" romance-writing issues in there.  There were flickers of her being a powerful, independent character, but they didn't last for long enough (like Xander, I blame different writers for the inconsistencies here--not that Whedon with his track record would've been better).  Plus this all started as just "ryu ga gotoku is awesome and xander could be a manic one-eyed guy like majima" and suddenly we're at Buffy is the head of the Yakuza, so.  I'm not sure how we got here, exactly, but it's awesome.
Buffy|Natsukawa Renyo's tattoo is relevant in this one, because you get to see her casually invoke it.  Also general background notes for the universe apply.  Buffy's Natsukawa Renyo, Maki-san is Giles, Wakabayashi is Kendra, one of the yakuza serving directly under the Chairwoman.  There will be more on her later.  Miyamoto Suna, barely mentioned, is Xander, Akiyama Yoko is Willow.  Amaya-kai is the Amaya Clan of the yakuza/gokodou, the one Natsukawa heads.  Natsukawa Kimiko (Joyce) was the last Chairwoman, but she died, and Buffy got the spot.  Isamu Ena is Amy, and she's Akiyama's Captain.
Also I realize that this universe may have been influenced by Kiyoto and the Korinto-kai from The Secret World, since they also have magical irezumi and Kiyoto would fit right in.  He'd have to be female but I don't think he even would mind-he's just as much about the chaos as Maki-san.
Main Points:
Buffy/Yakuza AU (Bloody Petals)
Chapter Summary: The Watcher's Council tries to recruit the head of the yakuza.
Word Count: 2684
Rating: Teen
Warning: Maki using sexism to troll a Watcher, as well as general musings on his situation (not that he believes them, but it's the society he lives in)

          As Maki-san finishes placing the last of the plum-blossom kanzashi in Natsukawa Renyo’s hair, he finishes his reminder about her schedule.  “Last but not least, I doubt I have to remind you of that Watcher’s visit.  You’ve had enough experience with the intricacies of politics in the last few months, I’m sure you’ll be able to deal with the man ably.”
          Renyo rolls her eyes and hides a smile behind her sleeve.  It hopefully won’t be necessary, but the men of the clan had sewed small pockets for her throwing needles into the sleeve (before, they’d just clinked around when she moved, which was annoying) and she also had her hair ornaments should it come to that.  She’s also grateful that it’s easier to move around in a woman’s kimono than a man’s.  Maki-san would be there, but his brand of fighting relied heavily on the magic he wasn’t entirely allowed to practice.  If she had any inkling that he was interested in undermining her authority, she’d have Akiyama bind his magic, but fortunately, he’d been nothing but loyal.  While she’d never had a fatherly figure in her life, the advisor had been there for her mother and now her.  “You can remind me of the man’s name, right?”
          “I hope you’ll remember his name when you’re in the meeting,” Maki-san responds, shaking his head but amused.  “Hasley Nicholas.”
          “Why don’t you greet him, see if he’s too caught up in Western ideas,” she suggests, and Maki-san smirks.
          “You’re a bad woman, Natsukawa-chan,” Maki-san chides her, only it’s not even a complaint.  He stands and bows and exits.  She can’t help but test a little, though. 

          The gatekeepers stare at Maki as he walks past, probably expecting the Chairwoman instead.  He’s always wearing the sharpest tailored suits as he does his work.  He’ll look legitimate enough to one, as Natsukawa-chan put it, ‘caught up in Western ideas’.  A young man in a suit waits.  “Good morning, Hasley-san.  Were you waiting long?”
          “No, thank you.”  As Natsukawa-chan predicted, he seems relieved, nervous about the yakuza women staring at him, but unlike Natsukawa-chan he understands.  After all, there’s a similar unease others have to him, a male advisor with rumored power.  Unfortunately for Hasley-san, he’s not comfortable with Japanese culture, women in power, or the Japanese language.  “About Renyo…”
          Oh dear, Maki thinks with, sadly, a small amount of glee (and he suggests the woman he dares to think of as his own daughter should curb her own delight, what hypocrisy).  “I believe she is more than capable of speaking for herself.”
          “Oh.”  Hasley-san shrinks in a little on himself before speaking up again.  “It’s in her best interest, though.  If you could put in a good word…”
          Honestly, he should be better, but the mischief in him can’t help but make itself known.  “My role as advisor is more ceremonial than anything.  Really, as a man it’s better not to voice ridiculous opinions, is it not?”
          Perpetrating stereotypes that even Natsukawa-chan thinks are ridiculous, but really, the look on the man’s face is too amusing not to.
          “Protecting a woman isn’t ridiculous!” the man blusters, and suddenly catches the flat look from Wakabayashi, eyeing him like he’s trash.
          “Perhaps it’s just the fact that I’m not that great at logic, but if I’m understanding this all correctly, aren’t you hoping Natsukawa-sama fights your battles for you?  How exactly does that qualify as protecting her?”  He knows, actually, having been an academic before he’d been swept up in this dark, alluring underworld, but just like Natsukawa-chan, he’s learned how to use those underestimating him to his advantage.
          The man splutters.  Natsukawa-chan will eat him alive.  Maki finds himself rather looking forward to it.

          Renyo nods at the man when he enters, glancing at Maki-san.  His careful control means that none of his annoyance shows in his face, but his overly formal manner as he enters shows he wasn’t impressed.  At all.
          Maki-san bows low and respectful.  The foreigner doesn’t.  “The representative from the Watcher’s Council is here,” he informs her, tone subservient.
          “I’ll be your Watcher—” he begins, and she’s suddenly glad for all those lessons in decorum, because they’re all that stands between her and rolling her eyes so hard she passes out.
          “You’ll have to forgive me for interrupting you, Hasley-san, but there seems to have been a misunderstanding about the circumstances of this meeting.”  This is going about as expected, but then, it would have been rude (and vastly less entertaining) to ignore them.  “My schedule is a busy one.  Our organization accepted an invitation to a meeting with yours on the basis that we are equals.  This is a negotiation.”
          The man chokes, and she gives him time to come to terms with the idea that he’s not the one in control at this point.  She’s seen his type before, dealt with it over the past few months coming to terms with her new position as Chairwoman.  It’s different, coming from a man without an irezumi youkai to invoke.  She’s curious whether they’d informed him about the danger he was undergoing, or just threw him in the deep end.
          “I…how much do you know about demons?” the man asks after a bit.
          “Most of what I know is practical.  I’ve dealt with some, destroyed others.  The spirit world, including the demon world, has been a part of this world for a long time.”  She knows enough to get the respect of the akuma and youkai.
          “Well, there’s only one girl in all the world who can fight the vampires, the demons, and the forces of darkness…” Hasley-san starts explaining, and fidgets at her raised eyebrow.  “What?”
          “What you say is strange to me.  The entirety of my organization is an important part of Japanese society.  We stand against the akuma and youkai that would otherwise prey on civilians.  Everyone down to the lowliest errand girl knows how to fight at least low-level vampires.”  She’s not going to go out and talk about gokudou or yakuza on her own.  It’s not done.  “Why can’t others be trained to fight?”
          “…It’s the way it’s always been done…” he responds, trailing off as he obviously has no true answer.
          She can see the amusement in Maki-san’s eyes.  Naughty, naughty.
          “I don’t now if your Council bothered to inform you, but I’m not your only…what is the term, Slayer?  I was unfortunately involved with a shootout last spring, and stopped breathing for less than a minute.  One of my subordinates confirmed that it was enough to call another.  Since you seem to have, for centuries, made do with just one, why would you suddenly need two?”  It’s more musing out loud than anything.  Akiyama-chan hasn’t been so delighted since the previous year, when she’d dealt with that yurei invasion.  She’d almost been more happy about that than the result of her work: her family being promoted from secondary to direct.  She had promptly cast over a dozen spells, forced her Chairwoman to drink several nasty potions, and sent her own family Captain, Isamu-chan, to harass the local supernatural populace for answers.
          He’s probably not lying about how ‘it’s the way it’s always been done’, if he’s not used to women standing up against him for their own rights.  He’s not very good at improvising.  “Slayers have always worked with Watchers.  That’s how it’s always been.  Do you want to let the world end or others to be hurt?” the Watcher asks, desperate.
          If she had been purely altruistic, she wouldn’t be the Chairwoman.  “Again, I don’t see how that would have been different than before there were two Slayers.  I would be happy to coordinate efforts with your organization to protect civilians, but if the arrangement involves me taking orders only, I will respectfully have to decline.  The days of me being a mere errand girl are long gone.”  Despite what some of her subordinates think, she had to earn her position.  And hold onto it, with both hands.
          “B-but, if you decline, you’re going to be hunted—”
          Maki-san’s eyes widen huge behind his glasses, though his gasp is not audible.
          “Thank you for your warning, Hasley-san, but this meeting was arranged as a courtesy to you, not me.  It’s kind of you to be concerned about me, but I think I’ll do just fine.”  She stands and nods again.  “I would warn them against attacking me.  It wouldn’t be wise.”
          “I—I’m sorry.”  And then Hasley-san flees, from her or from the retribution he fears coming; it’s hard to tell.
          She glances at Maki-san.  “That went well.”
          She’s managed to break through his legendary stoic calm, as he spends the next couple minutes giggling.

          She’s had enough of all the bureaucracy and red tape, so she sneaks out.  It’s vaguely nostalgic.  It’s odd learning about her new power source—well, not so new, but it explains why it seemed like she was constantly drawing on her irezumi youkai (not that anyone said anything about it, because no one wanted to make an enemy of Kimiko).  No one had mentioned anything about it, but Akiyama-chan had suggested that she had sensed a bound akuma (which apparently the Watchers’ Council had also found highly disturbing in the case of irezumi but didn’t bat an eye at the use themselves; how typical).  It’s odd to have an oni-slayer and an akuma, but it would explain why her decision to go for the oni mask on her shoulder just felt right.  She is Beauty and Beast both, only right for a Queen of the Night, a Chairwoman of the Amaya-kai.
          She’s in an odd mood tonight, nostalgic maybe, though she has no regret for not agreeing to the idiot’s demands.  She dresses like a mere chinpira or even a gang member, leather jacket, patched if well-loved jeans, only the best of stylish (if easy-to-move-in) boots, and a ridiculous, tight and soft shirt that says ‘Japan’ in English on it.  She’d been nostalgic, too, the night she’d bought the shirt.  Miyamoto-chan would’ve loved it.  Still would, probably, but she hasn’t seen her old friend in ages, not as she used to be.  She’s Matriarch Kumai’s strong, silent shadow, and Suna’s meant to be the agent provocateur, the one who can’t watch her mouth and is honest, to varying degrees of hilarity and annoyance.  She’s meant to keep Amaya-kai meetings entertaining, to make them think about what they’re saying, to keep them adapting and changing.  Plus, she has a strong suspicion Kumai’s a traitor, from the uncomfortable, dagger-like feeling she gets every time the matriarch’s in the room. 
          She wanders around for a bit, only to get that feeling again, the one that she’s being followed.  She doesn’t act like she catches on, waiting until her senses are screaming at her before invoking the torii at the last minute and partially phasing into the spirit world.  It’s useful for visiting half of her domain, since most other gokudou have to travel to physical points where the area between the worlds is thin, but she’s not wanting to actually go there for now.  The bullet passes through her partially phased body and right into the wall of the shop in front of her.  Fortunately, too, it misses the man in the kimono sweeping in front of the store.  She sees his eyes widen, both at the idiots trying to shoot at her and at the realization that she had, clearly, invoked her irezumi, given the red spiritual flames dancing around her.  He’s soon to realize that she’s no chinpira no matter how she dresses, because she’s about to invoke more of it, which wouldn’t traditionally be possible for such a low ranking member—in fact, not even all matriarchs master the technique, given that they’re trying to get their youkai to do things outside their usual power.
          She smiles reassuringly at him and explains as best she can.  “Power.  I have it.  They don’t.  This bothers them.”  How threatened they must be by a woman saying no, that they have to send an entire team to do their dirty work.
          Wisely, the man quickly disappears back into his own shop as she invokes her youkai, requesting Kofuyu’s aid and the miraculous, oni-slaying katana.  It phases into her hand as she turns and charges the foreigners in black; while she’s at it calling on the hou-ou, because she’ll need her concentration to fight and she can’t hold the torii for long.  Between the immortality of the phoenix and what is, apparently, her own remarkable Sureiyaa resilience, she should have no problems, particularly if she closes quarters quickly.
          She sees their eyes widen.  Time for some in-fight banter.  Between Maki-san’s insistence that she learn English—which, to be fair, has actually been useful in overseas business dealings—and Suna’s obsession with Western movies, she’d learned some amount of the language both formal and informal.  It’s useful when taunting opponents.  “Sending men to do a woman’s work.  How typical.”
          She ducks under one shot and the sharp, blessed edge easily bites through the shoulder of one.  He screams and drops the gun, though she doesn’t delude herself into thinking he won’t pick it up with the other hand.  He might even be ambidextrous, though from experience she can say pain makes for worse aim.
          She sidesteps again as her senses scream at her, making her katana disappear long enough to punch one of the guns out of one of her attacker’s hands.  It skitters off into the darkness.  That’ll be a problem later, too.  Usually the authorities are better about keeping guns out of the country, even if they’d teleported in.  Someone should’ve noticed.
          This time when she tries to dodge, she dodges the wrong direction, and pain explodes in her thigh.  Did she mention how much she hates guns?  Because she hates guns.  Her hands are already moving in a cutting arc as she re-summons the katana and it cuts easily through the gun.  And the man’s right trigger finger.  “Here I thought nobody would be offering up their fingers in penance today.  Goes to show, you never know what the day’s going to bring.”  Unfortunately, they don’t get to hear the first part of her quip over his pained howl, but whatever, she still enjoyed it.
          She sidewise kicks in a move Suna had complained felt like a horse’s kick after she’d been bruised for days, knocking the one with the wounded shoulder to the ground.  As expected, though, he goes back for the gun, which is when she gets the neat idea.
          She phases into the spirit realm just in time for both heart-shots to hit the disarmed one rushing her.  On him, they’re not heart-shots, but it hurts she’s sure and it’s not an automatic, because they’re probably generally good shots and don’t have to worry about the side effects of missing, like running out of bullets.  She knees the one missing the finger, because that’s Yoko’s advice.  He collapses in pain.
          It’s then that she hears the telltale sound of cops on their way, which would just ruin her night, as opposed to a good fight with stupid guns.  It’s always a rush invoking her irezumi.  Still, this needs to be a message, not just a fight.
          “Little math lesson.  Death equals prison, and prison equals bad.  So, killing you bad…but I’ll definitely leave you here in the street to think about what you’ve done.  Don’t worry, the police will get you help after they figure out why you’ve got guns in Japan.”  She steps on the one guy’s wounded shoulder, making a mental note that her boots are going to need cleaned from icky man-blood.  Not that men are icky, just these ones in particular.  “You need me to make your lives worth anything.  Get a different hobby or work with the program.”
          Her little speech is slightly ruined by her slight limp as she walks away, but still.  She still feels good about it.  A little visit with a healer and she’ll be right as rain.