on the hunt [open]

[arisu fukuzawa]

Arisu sat in the corner of the dusty old antique shop, not quite sure why she was there. Something about its location, how it was front and center lured her in, she thought. Her hunter instincts knew how this place could act as a sort of demon trap—these old antiques were somehow a magnet or something for those monsters. But, even though she was a hunter, she wasn't looking forward to what would happen if a demon were to walk through the door. Rose-colored irises darted left and right, nervously scanning the small shop, dreading the arrival of any sort of demon.

Some hunter she was.

Arisu drew in a breath of dusty air and let it out in a long sigh. How was she ever born into the Fukuzawa family, locally renowned for their sharpshooting skills and their strange pink eyes? Why did she even follow in her family's footsteps? With another sigh, she remembered how she'd witnessed firsthand the terror and destruction a demon was capable of causing, how it nearly killed her and destroyed her home with its wild rampage. Even then, she didn't hate the demons—but she knew they had to be stopped before they killed anyone, before they destroyed anything else. It had to be done. So, she took up her gun and stepped into the world of demon-hunting.

The weight of the gun hooked to the belt around her waist brought her to attention. It was a constant reminder of what she was and what she had to do. She looked at the specialized gun, at its uniquely tapered barrel and thought about how that strange barrel increased the speed and lethality of the similarly tapered bullets it fired. She thought about the silver bullets that gun fired. Silver—it seemed awfully cliche, but there was something about the metal that dealt more damage to demons. That interesting fact was discovered by one of her predecessors, and had been kept as a secret in the Fukuzawa family for generations.

Then there was the handgun strapped to her thigh, concealed beneath her blood-red dress. It wasn't easily found by prying eyes, and she could quickly draw it were she to lose her primary weapon. Her thoughts then turned to how much she hated her dress. It was too low cut, and it fit just a little too snugly around her chest. It was also too short, she thought, and she despised the color; reminded her too much of blood, naturally.

And at last, if both primary and secondary weapon was to be lost or stolen, there was the small dagger hidden between her breasts to use as a last resort. Of course, this little dagger was customized, and also made of silver. Her wandering mind turned her attention to her breasts, the things in which the dagger was concealed. She didn't like them, either. They were too large for her comfort. They attracted attention to her, and she never liked any kind of attention. Ever. She was just too socially awkward to even think about any kind of social interaction, period. Just earlier, one of the employees had thrown a wolf-whistle in her direction, which embarrassed her to no end.

Another sigh, and Arisu pulled herself away from these thoughts, and started focusing on her job. Those pink eyes continued their surveillance, watching for any demons.

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[izo brown]

antique store. the words were scrawled out - poorly painted in a chipping reddish hue - on the little building's dusty little windows. one would think that the owners would have remodeled their store along with the rest of the city square, but they never did. throughout all of its years of existence, it hadn't changed one bit; aside from a couple fresh coats of paint on its buckling cedar siding. the structure itself was a bright indigo color. amongst all of the greys and beiges of the office buildings that surrounded it, it stood out like a sore thumb; or, to be more poetic, a bluebird in the winter. it was a jukyo landmark that simply couldn't be missed. no one ever complained about being incapable of locating it, that was for sure.

the young man approached the store, staring at it endearingly. it was strange that a person like him, who was particularly lazy and standoffish, always made time in his weekly schedule to give a this place a visit. at first glance, he looked to be nothing but a punk. his body had stopped aging at the wily age of twenty, and the cheeky grin he incessantly wore did nothing to sway the mistrust that he was unintentionally regarded with. izo's grin widened and he withdrew the hood of his thick jacket, which he wore despite the mid-august heat. usually, he felt nothing but indifference towards people and their people-things. yet, for some odd reason, he came back to this shop day after day.

he walked up the decrepit wooden stairs next to the entrance, feeling oddly giddy. after all, there was a pretty lady in there waiting for him. a pretty lady meaning the lipsticked retiree with blue eyeshadow who manned the cash register. she made a habit of winking at him every time he passed and sometimes, if he was in a especially good mood, he'd give her a wink back and she'd reply with a hearty laugh. they rarely exchanged words, but he liked the friendly lady just the same. to her, he was probably just the weird boy who spent his time here. just how weird, though, she or any of the few other workers didn't have a clue. izo opened the door and walked through, which caused a bell to clang pleasantly twice.

he smiled at the jokey woman and turned into the room to the right. a huge, oak table with legs as ornate as can be stood in the center. a tablecloth of yellowed lace was fixed to perfection atop it. over that, there was a whole set of blue and white china. the shaggy-haired boy ran his hand over the chipped rim of a teacup. his dark eyes sparkled, as if he was reminded of times long past. he wasn't sure how long he had been roaming the earth, but certain objects always seemed familiar to him. he was drawn to a bookshelf filled with stories and schoolbooks. moby dick, twenty thousand leagues under the sea. his eyes studied the worn spines of the novels and he found himself wondering just how many times they were read and just who read them.

that had to be what attracted him. izo didn't have much of soft spot for humans. he wasn't like he used to be. his feelings had been hardened by time and by experience. regardless of this, he liked to look back on times when he wasn't so callous. back when he could befriend those who he now resented. the man felt as if he was drifting away, but he caught himself when he noticed a presence. he turned his head slightly to catch sight of the other patron. a woman with roseate eyes. strange, yet resplendent. he eyed the gun that was hanging obviously at her waist with distaste. it was probably used to ward off deplorable creatures like himself. "looking for something?" he asked, staring at her from the corners of his dark eyes. she appeared to be searching for something. whatever it was, it seemed that it wasn't jumping out at her. it wasn't plain to see.

ooc: sorry, i ended up writing a novel.

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[arisu fukuzawa]

Arisu's alert eyes immediately looked to the door as the clanging of bells signaled someone's entrance into the store. A man with dark hair and dark eyes had entered. She fixed her roseate eyes on him; not very many people came into the store, from what she saw, and she knew that the antique store often attracted demons. Was this man a demon? For both their sakes, she hoped not.

She watched as he studied the various antiques around the store. He seemed awfully interested in these old items for someone that seemed so young—he couldn't have been any older than 20. And Arisu's father had taught her that demons had some kind of affinity with old stuff, especially the ones that had lived hundreds of years.

The hunter tensed when the man that was possibly a demon looked at her, even though he wasn't facing her directly and was only looking at her out of the corner of his eye. She was terribly paranoid that way, not to mention her social akwardness. "U-Um..." she stammered when the man spoke to her. She hesitated, thinking about what to say to him. Should she just say what she was really there for, that she was on the lookout for demons? Oh, but what if he actually was a demon? But what else could she say to him? That she was there looking for antiques? Because honestly, she could care less about ancient objects that have been who-knows-where. Well...they always have said that the truth will set you free.

"Uh, sir, this may seem unlikely, but...I am looking for, um, demons."

ooc: It's fine~ Sorry that I ended up writing the opposite of a novel.

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[izo brown]

the shaggy-haired man turned his attention back to the treasures that were laid out before him. he vaguely wondered if the workers thought him strange. most people his apparent age wouldn't give an establishment such as this a second glance - they were too busy clucking and chatting amongst eachother to notice it. and yet, he visited like clockwork. he rarely bought anything; just browsed for hours in a daze. it ocurred to him that he would have to stop coming eventually. if he continued to come for years, someone was bound to start asking questions. his appearance never changed. staying exactly the same for five years was something that couldn't be attributed to aging well. it pained him to think about that sad fact, but he accepted it.

the woman was quiet for a moment, but then began to speak. or rather, stammer. he waited for her to form a proper sentence, still facing the bookshelf in front of him. he had read some of them before; flipped through their worn pages. perhaps he had even owned one of those before? the thought gave off an overwhelming sense of nostalgia. izo turned to the woman and forced his hands into the pockets of his jacket. demons. he suddenly looked to the floor and let out a chuckle, hiding his mouth with his right hand. foolish statements like that never failed to make him laugh. didn't they know that the person they were talking to could very well be one of them? to say such a thing so obviously was stupid.

izo flicked his dark gaze up to meet hers. he approached her quickly, his feet causing the wooden floorboards to creak. she seemed naive; the type of person he loved to tease. he came just close enough to cause discomfort and glanced at her sharply. "demons, huh?" he said through a crooked smile. "ah, how interesting. i've heard things like that exist around here, though i don't quite believe it," he said, successfully lying through his teeth. "what exactly are you looking for them for, miss?"

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