Souma found his lips curling in a wide, toothy grin. There was no reason to hold back before Galina's quick tongue, their conversation returning oh so quickly to the way it had been before his sister's arrival. Who could jest and joke over such things as she did now? Who could switch so easily, so naturally, to fit the scene around her?

His mind was already moving, roaming over plans and suggestions he and Daisuke had been discussing until now. What they might need, where they might get it, what they might face, the best times to strike. The list grew shorter the longer he pondered, until the perfect choice stood clear and alone.

"Free, just waiting, yes." Slowly, Souma rose as Daisuke returned to the room, cups in hand. Accepting his own tea, he waited for his fist to offer Galina hers, before speaking again. 

"Just out of city. Daisuke will bring nearby, be ready when need leave." He gestured after his Fist, who was already moving towards the door. "Bring tea, will help with cool night."

~-~-~

The cart shut out much of the cities light's and sounds as it moved, the rhythmic bounce and steady creak as it was run down the roads furthering the illusion of being removed from the rest of the world. No one outside would know who it was who sat within it's confines, and none inside would know who was watching them as they passed. 

Two, separate worlds that ignored the other. It was perfect for a pair of spies thought dead by the world.

Within that small, secluded world of the cart cabin, Souma shared his knowledge of the target with Galina. What had started out as a series of shacks setup just outside the 'official' city boundaries had evolved into an enclosed compound of it's own. More and more buildings had sprung up around it, sometimes built into the very walls surrounding the center, camouflaging their target from the unwary. Over time, shacks and hovels had been replaced by stronger, more expensive buildings as the city grew, driving out the original occupants in favor of those much like the Takahiros. Wealth and influence gained from smuggling, gambling and racketeering, the clan that resided in that hard-to-find, makeshift mansion had done well for themselves, operating where the law couldn't be bothered to go. 

'Rough' was the word to describe this chaotic outsprawl from the city, but a riper target was hard to find. Many of the goods smuggled into the city came through yakuza clans such as this one, not powerful enough to gain a hold in the 'legitimate' businesses within the city proper, but longing for a taste of that wealth. Souma and his kin had held such a position once... but the similarity bred no sympathy for the clan he and Galina traveled too now.

As a Takahiro, there was no need for the competition brought by other clans. As a freelance criminal, if they couldn't stop him they had no right to complain. If he had [i]any[/i] misgivings about the target he had chosen, it was that it would not directly harm the nobility he had always worked against.

But this was how his clan had begun to move up in the world. And having been brought back down and left alone, Souma felt it fitting to return to the basics.

"This will be... quiet task," The cart slowed, signaling their approach to the outskirts of their target. Souma nodded towards Galina's rifle as he spoke, "Quiet weapons only, Daisuke will keep rifle safe..."

"Have tools to help, your throwing arm strong, yes?" A grin widened across his lips again, recalling vaguely the throw she had made with his old knife before. A hand opened up a compartment in the wooden seat between them, drawing out twin bands of metal spikes, along with what appeared to be whole eggs. Still more tools lay inside, lengths of rope and metal bars bearing hooked spikes on one side. A few wooden stakes, a spool of wire and set of barbed hooks completed the kit. "Spike to injure, spice to blind, have preference?"