Arc IX Chapter 3

    IX

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    Arc IX Chapter 3

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    “Nee-san, the bento isn''t necessary.“ Yuki pouted. A sigh of annoyance escaped her lips.

    Nee-san was completely exaggerating. As usual.

    Yuki knew nee-san only wanted her best, and Yuki loved nee-san dearly, but still ... Too much was too much. Nee-san''s love suffocated Yuki at times. Her care and attention exceeded any reasonable measures. Nee-san acted like her mother.

    Don''t catch a cold.

    Don''t forget your scarf.

    Don''t stay up for too long.

    Eat your vegetables.

    Don''t come back late.

    Don''t trust strangers on the streets.

    Asami shook her head and rewarded Yuki with a gentle head pat. “On the contrary, I insist. Food is a necessary commodity. My cute little Yuki-chan can''t go hungry. You must eat in order to grow strong and healthy. You are way too skinny.“

    Asami poked her waist. “No muscles. No meat. Nothing. You definitely need additional energy.“

    ...

    ...

    ...

    Yuki blinked while Katsuki nommed in the background on her plate of delicious, divine tuna.

    Katsuki was once again a happy little kitten. Her whiskers approved.

    Her mistress granted her a large tuna to celebrate this joyous day. The taste. The texture. The taste. The aroma. Celestial.

    Katsuki guarded the tuna jealously. The fish was her tuna. Her tuna alone.

    Yuki studied nee-san. Her sisterly smile forced Yuki to capitulate. Yuki relented and accepted the bento. “I understand, nee-san.“

    Asami clapped her hands. “Excellent.“

    “Where did you even get the bento from? I didn''t see you cooking.“

    Katsuki noticed the stares. As a diligent kitten, her duty was to protect her mistress from harm.

    Her fluffy paws poked Asami''s cheeks. “Ojou-sama.“

    Asami greeted Katsuki with a broad smile. “What''s the matter, my little kitten?“

    Katsuki pouted. She might be a kitten, but she was still a princess of the cat clan. “People are watching us. The gazes. They are everywhere.“

    Asami giggled amused. “Don''t worry, they are following us for a while.“

    Katsuki hesitated. “You knew?“

    “Silly kitten, it''s only natural for a princess to be admired by her subjects.“ Asami tickled Katsuki''s chin.

    Katsuki fought the temptation, but resistance proved futile. Her defences crumbled. Mistress shamelessly exploited her weakness. Tickles.

    Katsuki pouted. Evil mistress. Cruel mistress. Mistress treated her like a newborn kitten.

    Asami merely giggled. “Apparently, even royalty pouts.“

    Katsuki objected, “I don''t pout.“

    “Sure~.“ Asami tilted her head and continued her stroll.

    The quarter was stricken by poverty. Decrepit buildings flanked the streets. The economic crisis following the war and Pain''s strict policy of isolationism hit Amegakure hard. Trade collapsed and industry imploded.

    Desperation and unemployment allowed crime to flourish. Driven by their most basic needs, people turned against each other. Forgotten were filial bonds and friendship when hunger called when survival was prioritised.

    Beggars, fathers, peasants, refugees, veterans flooded the streets, people discarded once they had outlived their usefulness, willing to do anything for little coin and bread. Their new masters were happy to oblige.

    The overabundance of cheap manpower proved a fertile ground for the underworld of Amegakure. Emboldened by the absence of a functional administration, organised crime took over the streets. Pain either didn''t see or didn''t care.

    The syndicates lost any semblance of respect, and it showed. Unbothered by consequences, they carried their heads high, arrogant and complacent as if they owned the village. Petty lords with delusions of grandeur.

    Their chests swelled with pride, and conceited grins flashed across their faces. Their tattoos were a testament to their honour.

    Asami clicked her tongue in visible displeasure. Their shamelessness disgusted her. Their impudence offended her.

    Crime operated in open daylight. They didn''t even pretend to hide their unsavoury business. Drugs. Gambling. Kidnapping. Blackmailing. Assassination. Prostitution.

    Their establishments provided their customers with a steady supply of flowers waiting to be plucked. No effort was spared to satisfy even the most extravagant tastes. Their customers enjoyed their time and each night a petal was torn.

    The bosses ruled the streets for far too long. They lacked proper respect. It was time to remind them of their rightful place beneath the sun ...

    Asami stopped. Her ears picked up signs of trouble, a commotion.

    A cry erupted from a nearby alley. A boy collapsed to the filth of the street. A metal bar had struck the poor boy with full force. A group of illustrious gentlemen kept him company. Their tattoos betrayed their affiliation.

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