Souma made a short, meaningful gesture to Daisuke as Galina entered, his Fist hesitating only briefly before acquiescing to the command. As she moved to kneel opposite Souma, Daisuke moved to a low table nearby, one that contained a smattering of carefully carved plates and chopsticks.

Retrieving one plate and set of utensils, he moved back to the table... stopping when she heard Galina's question.

Souma, likewise remained very, very still. He didn't look at Galina, not directly, but rather past her towards the corner of the room. One hand resting lightly over his chopsticks, the other on his lap, he neither responded to her greeting nor answered her question... nor, indeed, seemed to register that she was actually there to begin with. Nothing, only still silence for moments after moments.

And then, a gesture, small, beckoning Daisuke forwards. His Fist quietly placed a small plate before Galina, the chopsticks across it's surface, then stepped away. After a moment longer, the door behind her closed, leaving them alone inside.

"Ai..." Souma spoke, then, delicately lifting a slice of grilled eel to his plate before pushing the others towards Galina in offer. His eyes moved down, towards his food, still not meeting hers. "...Is leading clan. Rebuilding, so they remain in favor."

He didn't mention Raigo, but did finally raise his head to meet her gaze.

"Is that why you're here? To ask of my family?"

"That is a part of the reason," Galina replied truthfully, casting her eyes down to the plates of eel and ramen and rice, but not putting anything to her own offered plate just yet. The mention of only one of the Takahiro family was, of course, sufficient for Souma's unspoken meaning to be quite clear. 'So... Raigo then, and there was no misunderstanding Soshitsu. But that was only ever wishful thinking anyway... '

She sighed almost inaudibly, blinking her dark eyes swiftly to keep tears she did not know she still had, back behind those long lashes. Galina picked up the chopsticks brought by Daisuke, and slowly reached for some of the offered eel, nodding her thanks with a smile so swift it might not have been there at all. "And it is good to hear, of Ai, that she continues to do... Well. She will surely succeed. Your sister is truly quite brilliant."

Galina breathed softly, gathering herself to finally look upward and meet Souma's gaze. "Still, you are quite right of course, in assuming that is not the whole of my reason for finding you."

She looked to her plate once more, to the delicate slices of eel there, and was pleased to see her hands shook not at all as she lifted a small piece to her lips. Galina chewed for a moment, swallowed, and then spoke at last. "I have lost everything Souma. Everything, but my life and my brother Yury. For three weeks after the attack on your home, I was only well enough to be transported as far as the port of Vladivostok - but Yury knew what had happened. He waited alone with the news before he could tell me, and know I would survive the telling."

She reached for the warm pot of sake and poured a small amount in her own cup, fortifying herself with a sip of the liquor before she could bring herself to finish that thought. "Within days of the attack on your home, the Americans brought their forces against the Demidov Keep in western Russia. They burned everything they could, and no one survived: not my father or elder brothers, not their wives or my little nieces and nephews."

Galina's face remained as impassive as stone, tearless, though even the effort of maintaining this faultless facade would be telling to one wise enough to read her. "Not even Klara."

"I have a good idea why you are in hiding at the moment. My brother is even now telling the world, that his beloved sister did not recover from her mortal injuries. Whatever you have planned Souma, wherever you go, I offer you my unqualified services. I offer my sword, my pistol, my wits and all my myriad skills - no strings, no tricks nor subterfuge. I do not know the Americas as you do, I do not have the contacts within the States. But I would consider it a great favor, a gift, an honor even, to accompany you there and kill every last person responsible, for what they have done to our families."

Souma remained silent as Galina spoke.

She had sought him out, had returned to Japan for at least that one specific reason. Had the attack on his family not happened, had he not heard her candid admissions that night when they tried to kill each other, Daisuke would have never let her through the door.

But everything that night had happened. Every last moment, every little detail. Galina Demidova was no longer someone Souma Takahiro could see as a rival, adversary or annoyance. He wasn't sure, entirely, what to see her as. But at the very least, she was worth his full attention.

So he didn't speak, didn't interrupt, gaze watching her own features with steady interest, chopsticks laying across his plate. He nodded in unneeded allowance as she poured herself a cup of sake, his own features growing a shade darker as she recounted the devastation that had struck her own home. More than him or his clan, Galina and hers had been a target as well.

It fit together with much of what Souma had learned, shameful and humiliating as the knowledge was. Everything he had accomplished since leaving Japan could not possibly balance out what he had brought down upon his family. For it had been his fault -and Galina's as well- their first encounter making an enemy with the patience to stay hidden until the last moment... and the resources to make that last moment count.

But failure was only complete if there was no chance of retaliation. The fact that both he and Galina had survived, and that their opponents likely did not know it, was a fatal mistake he was certain to exploit.

He remained quiet for a moment after she finished, reaching out to retrieve the sake for himself. Refilling his cup, he eyed the swirling steam for a moment longer, before downing the contents in a single go.

"Four days." He said finally, picking up his chopsticks as he met Galina's eyes once more. "We eat, rest, prepare. Boat leaves in four days...

...Then we hunt."

Any number of unnamed thoughts, emotions, dashed behind the dark depths of Galina's eyes as she held Souma's gaze, though she said not a word for some moments.

And then, she smiled. It was a smile to comfort friends and companions, embrace allies; and to carve the fear of a vengeful and angry God, with all its dark promise, in the heart of an enemy. Separately, Takahiro Souma and Galina Demidova were, of their own, as pitiless and horrible as primal forces of nature made manifest in the flesh. But together, a man with the immoveable strength of a mountain and its merciless, fiery heart ; a woman as inexorable as the tides, graced with the relentless celerity of the storm winds?

Together, their wrath would be terrible to behold.

"Done, and thank you. Truly." Galina let out the breath she had held, slowly, and her hands moved deftly to take a few slices of the eel, to pour some of the ramen and broth into her own small bowl. Some small part of Galina marveled at how easy all this seemed, sharing a meal with the man who, not even a month prior, would have gladly crushed her skull on the stone base of a garden statue. How very natural all this had become, in the space of mere seconds. Far more natural even, than the carefree meeting of a naive and gentle Russian noblewoman and a smiling and kindly young Japanese gentleman as, with such sweet determination, they attempted to speak of art and beauty in a language that neither was born to.

Galina decided that in this moment, she far preferred this between them, this meeting between two equals who, at last, knew far better the full extent of one another. The short meeting of that sweet young pair at the rich woman's birthday may have shone like gentle spring sunlight; but the dinner of the spymasters held all the burning intensity of the high summer sun.

"Four days?" she asked rhetorically, "Simple enough. My needs are few, and all I have with me is my horse, and what is packed in my trunk at my hotel - and in here." Galina tapped one fingertip to her temple meaningfully. "But if you wish, I will provide and pool what monies I still have available - I am yet to sign over the remnants of my family's holdings here in Tokyo to Hasekura Soshitsu... "

"He is scared positively witless of you Souma. I do not know what you did to him, but when he realized I was... Not to be put off, you might say? Oh how he was sweating and stammering, so I could barely understand a word! I confess, for a moment or two, I thought he might faint dead away on his office carpet - or heaven forefend, see the heart explode in his chest! Thankfully, his manservant was far more composed."

Galina laughed softly, finally, and did not realize 'til this very moment the act could feel so good. "Still, I doubt very much he would begrudge a generous 'donation' to our most worthy cause." She lifted her bowl of ramen with one hand, her chopsticks in the other, and lifted a healthy portion of the garlic-infused noodles to her mouth as - at last - Galina was finally able to start placating the hungry, growling beast that had been snarling in her belly. She sighed quite happily, swallowing before she spoke once more.

"Have you done much hunting, Souma? I have. Stag and boar, and even bear. On horseback, and on foot - but never without knowing my quarry first. Our people were able to surmise the attackers were American after rifling the bodies, but there were no other insignia to mark them as military or otherwise of course."

"It was simple enough to make the connection between our respective missions at the Winchester Mansion, and the theft of the schematics. At the moment, that is the only thing of which I am sure." Galina refused to allow her thoughts to dwell on the fault behind all this tragedy, and all the senseless deaths of so many innocents. No, not too long in that vein. She knew all too well, how easy it would be to allow herself to be crushed beneath the weight of all her guilt, immobilized by her grief and self-loathing - and she could ill afford that crippling weakness now.

Souma couldn't help but chuckle as Galina brought up the cowardly broker, recalling the conversation he had had with the man shortly after the attack on his clan.

It had not been a pleasant meeting for anyone involved. Too soon after the coals had cooled, Souma barely had the patience at the time to keep Soshitsu alive, much less browbeat him into acquiescence. The broker had held no connection to the ones who had burned the Takahiro compound, but his part in Galina's now-defunct plan to 'shame' Souma had been damning enough. No it had been a brief, angry conversation, with very little said on Soshitsu's part and little satisfaction wrought from it all.

Yet he could look back on it was some amusement, now. Recalling the broker's sweating, terrified visage, and how similar it might have looked to the one Galina witnessed. She had likely dealt with him in a better fashion, certainly one to use charm and grace to mask her threats. Souma had been more... direct, but the results had been the same for both. That alone was enough to respect her abilities as a peer in the same field... if everything before hadn't already helped with that.

He took a moment of his own, to savor his share of eel and pour another cup of sake to sip with his food. This was nice, strangely. A quiet meal speaking business with a peer, it was almost like his days used to be. Before he left Japan, heaving dinner with Ai and Raigo, discussing all that had been done that day, and what needed to be done the next. And after, when he was on his own, the meals he had held with Daisuke and Goemon, having those very same talks...

Of course, he couldn't sit down to either of those meals again. The empty seats at each would kill any conversation before it could start.

He choked back the thought, choosing to sample some of the ramen Galina seemed keen to devour. He spoke after a pair of quick, slurping bites, falling back into the strange enjoyment of this meeting.

"You're correct. American mercenaries, well-trained, good resources." He nodded along with the words, knowing his quarry had been the task that had gotten him through each day until now. It was a very familiar topic. "Agents in America are working. Know what to look for, will have information when we arrive."

He paused a moment, pondering his plans with Galina's involvement, before speaking up once more.

"Blades, guns, gear needed, money not." A toothy grin slowly grew across Souma's lips, the thought of being able to lose himself in some of the 'old' work of his clan. "Money never important for us. Plenty to find for cheap, for free, if you look around."

One eyebrow arched meaningfully over her dark eyes, a single corner of her mouth curling upward just the tiniest smidgen in genuine amusement as her gaze washed over his handsome face. Galina remembered that smile well, marked in her memory for so very long now. She was glad to see it once more, that flash of genuine good humor had changed not in the least from her first remembrances, and the thought warmed her far better than even the sake could.

Galina had learned over the course of this past year, how very, very different her upbringing had been from Souma's, and this vast gulf of disparity was far more than simply being born in separate nations, to differing cultures. In most every nation from the dawn of man, the rich and the wealthy lived lives of privilege, the children born into this vaunted families never knowing a moment of want or need. This had been Galina's life once, just as it was the life of every child born to a Japanese nobleman, or a fabulously successful American entrepreneur. The privations Galina experienced as a child, indulged [outlandishly, many would say] by a father who raised his daughter to become a Cossack warrior, had been entirely her own choice from the moment she could run after her brothers and stubbornly refused to be chased off.

This was, by no means, the order of privation Souma had known as a child. Far from it. Whatever respectability the Takahiro clan had achieved was gained entirely through what could be stolen, smuggled, cheated or ripped away by wit, by skill or by sheer brute force. The title of "samurai" and that once palatial compound stood testament to the undeniable efficacy of their brutal and merciless ways, and all Souma's clan wrested from this vicious, unforgiving world.

Knowing this, Galina only loved him all the more.

She set down her near empty ramen bowl before reaching for the warm jug of sake, refilling Souma's cup, and then topping off her own. "Money is not important, you say? So much to 'find' for cheap - for free, is there? Just lying about?" Galina's musical laughter, as melodic and rich as her matchless voice, danced from her lips.

"Tell me Souma, you have piqued my curiosity fiercely, and I simply cannot decide," she purred, leaning forward just a little over the table they shared, her voice dropping to a lovely, conspiratorial whisper. "Are you trying to seduce a haughty noblewoman down from her lofty perch, to come revel with you in all your deliciously filthy back alley ways?"

A devilish lift of her eyebrows accompanied an equally wicked grin. "Or are you are simply proposing to teach me a whole new skill set?"

Souma paused, eyes widening in the wake of Galina's words. He rocked back at the table, chopsticks falling limp in his hand. It was a moment of surprise, then he recovered... and began to laugh.

Nothing quiet, no restrained mirth or threatening chuckle. No, what bubbled up through Souma's widening lips was heavy, rich laughter that rose from his belly. It was the kind that refused to stop once it began, echoing in deep melody throughout the room until his sides hurt and tears blurred his sight.

How long had it been since he'd laughed like that? Not since childhood, it had to be. There had been so much to do, even then, but at least there had also been time to laugh. He and Ai had always tried to recapture those moments later on, always tried to find that same, relaxed peace, with no luck. Too much work, too many risks, and then they were a world apart, each wrapped up in their own respective tasks.

Souma had certainly enjoyed his work, as Ai had hers, and their conversations had always been a welcome break from the world. But this? Now, between him and Galina? This went beyond any of those conversations, beyond all the little joys and distractions, reaching all the way back to those simple times of youth. This was wonderful, this was refreshing.

This was something, he could learn to love.

"That is hard choice. Either would... be a challenge."

His grin was wide, genuine, and said nothing more in answer, Souma leaning forward in mimicry of Galina's own actions.

"But, who here tempts who? Lowly ruffian of... what was? Deliciously filthy alleys? Or noblewoman with silver tongue?"

Galina relished the initial shock on Souma's face, and then the unbound laughter that filled the small room with a warmth that was near tangible, and she could not help but join him. Some small, mischievous whisper in the back of her thoughts wondered what in the world Daisuke must be thinking on the other side of the shoji screen. The image of that mountainous man's perplexed and likely oh-so-disapproving face would have let loose a fresh gale of crystalline laughter, had Souma not leaned just a little closer with a tantalizing question of his own.

'Well then! How delightfully unexpected... '

This time Galina's dark, sparkling eyes widened with surprise as the breath caught in her throat, and then narrowed playfully as she leaned forward some subtle inches more toward Souma across the narrowing expanse of the small, elegant table. She worked her full, silken lower lip delicately with ivory teeth for a moment before a crafty gleam lit her face with undiluted mischief. Galina chuckled, and then met his riposte with a counter all her own, doubling down on the playful challenge with a grin as wide and genuine as Souma's own.

"Souma, please, don't be cruel to my tender, womanly heart," she crooned softly, her voice not much more than a breathy whisper he must lean forward further still to hear all the better - and what man with ears to hear would not do exactly that? Galina's voice was magical, enchanting, low and warm and laced with an otherworldly beauty to hold even a nightingale enthralled.

"I think you know very well, the answer to your question." Galina pouted prettily, though a single, elegant hand rose to cross the slowly-closing distance between them, gentle, careful fingertips wiping away the tears of laughter from the corners of his eyes.

The backs of her fingers wound a soft, leisurely path down the length of his cheek, his jaw, until they lightly fell away to rest in her lap once more. "What possible chance could that poor noblewoman and her silver tongue stand against such an enticing ruffian, I ask you? How could she possibly resist if he assails her frail, defenseless senses, offering up the promise of a single, matchless taste of his wicked, feral ways?"

Souma found himself drawn closer by her words, caught himself from leaning into her hand as she brushed it over his face. Know the answer well, did he? Galina certainly seemed ready to convince him of that, in her own way. Something glinted in the back of his eye, the joy of one who has found a game they could truly enjoy, whether they should or not.

Who would he be, to back down now?

"How could she, I wonder..." He reached out with one hand, choosing not to trace the features of her face, but rather to move towards her dark tresses. His hand brushed gently passed her ear, grin widening on his lips as he tilted his head in question. "You make it seem, such questions should be-"

"Boss!"

Souma's gaze snapped over to the sound of Daisuke's voice, the shadow of the Fists' back visible at the edge of the screen. Grin withering away, he began to lean back, hand returning to rest on his edge of the table. "What, Daisu-"

"English, brother?" Souma's eyes widened at the soft, lilting voice that cut him off, a second shadow moving slowly to pass Daisuke's own. The words were light, playful, as Ai's little jests and jabs always were. But his features continued to fall, muscle tensing along arm, chest and leg alike. His gaze shifted briefly, flashing hasty warning to Galina in the last instants before his elder sister entered the room.

"Practicing for your trip, are you- YOU!"

Souma was halfway towards standing by the time Ai noticed Galina in the room, hand reaching for the first thing it could find as his sister's dove into the sleeves of her light-blue kimono. Chopsticks were closer than his plate, slightly, and would have to do. Poorly suited for anything other than eating, they nevertheless made for a suitable distraction. One quick flick of his arm sent a single carved utensil to bounce harmlessly off Ai's hand, withdrawing with a gleaming spike in it's grasp. It halted her own movement, glare snapping from the Russian spy to Souma himself. Her hand did not let go of the spike.

"Sister, hold a momen-"

"Explain!" English... not good. Daisuke was around the corner now, watching and ready- though in the end unable to do much. He was Souma's Fist, but Ai was now the Takahiro head. A fist could not be raised against her, even in protection of the one who wielded in. In this case, here, Souma had to fend for himself.

"Will-" Slowly, Souma sank back to sit. He shot a single, wary glance towards Galina before turning back to Ai, who had yet to move. He shifted where he sat, moving down the table slightly, angling himself to keep both women in view, gesturing towards Galina before he spoke. "Offers help against Americans-"

"Why. Would. She. Do. That."

He paused a moment, then sighed. No helping it.

"Same reason I'm leaving."

There, finally, Ai moved. Her eyes did first, widening ever-so-slightly, before her hand quietly slipped the metal spike back within the sleeves of her gown. She stood there a moment longer, regarding them both with an unwavering frown. In the end, however, she walked towards them, seating herself deliberately beside Souma, though her eyes were not directed towards him.

"...Galina, Demidova." She spoke the name slowly, drawing out each syllable, so that no part of it was lost beneath her accented English. Frown remaining ever in place, her eyes grew downcast, as if recalling something she would rather leave forgotten. "That, is your name, yes? Your... actual, name?"

"Of course it is."

Galina had not missed even one of Souma's warning glances, telling her without a word to stay still, to stay calm, to do nothing rash or foolish. He need not have worried on her account though. The lightness she found in their sport, the joy in those few precious moments of playful banter, faded from her flawless ivory face as if it had never been.

No, Souma need not have worried. Galina never moved. Not when Ai's face contorted with rage at the sight of her. Not when she pulled her blade, or when Souma launched his distraction, or even when she reluctantly sheathed that blade once more in the sleeve of her kimono. She did not so much as flinch when Souma spoke around the reason she hunted the Americans with him; or as Ai deliberately sat beside Souma, all her unspoken accusations and a world of mistrust resting in that frown.

Even if Ai had managed to unsheathe that blade and rush her, Galina would not have raised a single hand to stop the woman from doing her very worst. Her own vast deception had earned Ai the right to do as she would, though Galina was certainly grateful to Souma for his unorthodox intervention. Galina bowed her head respectfully to Ai though she neither expected nor sought any form of recognition or politesse in return.

One hand alone betrayed her true emotion under the withering gaze of Takahiro Ai, her fingers gently brushing the skin of the ear Souma had only just touched, as if to tuck a piece of her dark hair before forcing her hand back to her lap. "Your brother could not have found me in western Russia, nor managed to book my passage aboard the Empress of Japan if it were otherwise - as, no doubt, he has told you by now."

Galina considered - for a single moment - veering from the truth, softening the hard reality of what she had done while a guest of the Japanese nobility, and then of the Takahiro clan. Almost as quickly, she dismissed the thought. Ai was no fool, nor was she a child who needed to be spoon fed milk-sopped foods lest she choke. "I also confessed to your brother, the day he first returned, that I purposefully used my 'actual name' in your family home. I was confident at the time he told no one who I was, how we had met, or what had happened aboard the Empress."

"Do not misunderstand me though. There was a woman once, a certain Baronessa Galina Vasilyevna Demidova. Unfortunately she is quite dead, shot in the chest during a pirate attack on a Pacific voyage near Manilla." For a single moment, Galina fought to keep her fingers in her lap, to keep from reaching upward to touch the scarred flesh above her breast, still an angry, deep reddish pink and quite painful - though not nearly so as its larger twin on her back, ripped between her shoulder blades.

"She struggled valiantly to recover, and yet eventually succumbed to her wounds some painful weeks later. She was survived only by her brother Yury, a man whose own family has, of late, been beset by a string of great and horrible tragedies."

Galina's eyes fell away, her expression thoughtful, troubled and so genuinely sad, before she spoke once more. "There was also a woman nicknamed 'Shizuka,' who is also likely dead. She was a happy woman though, truly contented, and she learned to love those her opened their doors to her."

She fell silent, half-fearing the eruption of Ai's wrath - or even Souma's - for the truth in her words, presumptuous and overreaching as they very likely were.

"That, of course, may be a tale for another day."

Ai sat quietly as Galina explained herself to the Takahiro Matriarch, frown remaining firmly in place. Still as a porcelain doll, she watched the Russian Spy speak, Souma forgotten beside her. No glance aside, twitch of the face or quiet fidget of her fingers betrayed her feelings, locked firmly behind a disapproving facade.

That was the responsibility of a clan head, to betray nothing. Openness was a luxury allowed only when among true family, and no one else. That was something her father hadn't learned, and while it hadn't been the fault that had killed him... She could not risk the same weakness.

As such, she remained still and silent, even after Galina had finished speaking. Her eyes bored into the Russian's own, seeking out any hint of falsehood, any attempt to evade or avoid the truth. Even her brother would be hard-pressed to stop her, should she find a reason to take offense to Galina's words. Siblings or not, Galina had done too much on her own for Ai to suffer much more, something Galina seemed to understand implicitly. Nothing in her words rang false, no hesitation gave reason for suspicion. So, after a moment more of silence, Ai finally sighed, shaking her head as she reached out to down Souma's cup of Sake.

"Chopsticks please, Brother." She reached out with one hand, turning to look at Souma only when he did not immediately comply with her request. He sat there beside her, eyebrow raised in quiet regard, as if what she said was somehow surprising. Ai's eyes only narrowed in response. "Please, Brother."

After another moment's pause, Souma shrugged, placing the lone chopstick he still had in her waiting palm.

"..." Ai's lips drew into a tight line, glare wavering not an inch from Souma's own, impassive gaze. She did not move, the two siblings continuing to dare the other into blinking. They held that pose until Daisuke came to the rescue, quietly retrieving the second chopstick from the mats where it fell, wiping it with a clean cloth and placing it gently before Ai.

"Demidova... has the spare." Daisuke followed the words with a slight bow, as her gaze switched to him, stepping away to retrieve and clean his own utensils.

"Of course..." A second, heavier sigh escaped Ai's lips, before she pulled the bowl of eel closer to herself. Souma remained quiet during the exchange, eyes flicking between her and Galina. He broke his vigil only when Daisuke came to his side, the Fist offering his own now-cleaned Chopsticks for his Boss to use. Ai, meanwhile, sampled the food arrayed between the three of them, speaking up again when she had swallowed down a dainty mouthful of ramen.

"Galina, then..." Her gaze came back to rest fully on Galina before her. "Russian asking to help Souma, yes? I see..."

"Baronessa Demidova was... opponent, was she not? Shizuka was... betrayer, was she not?" Ai's gaze narrowed, Souma growing tense by her side, but the Takahiro Matriarch only continued to speak. "Both dead, can't blame you, can I?"

Souma relaxed enough to refill his cup with the last of the Sake. Ai took it shortly after, draining it's contents yet again.

"Souma is, currently, not Takahiro." She gestured towards her brother, who was now regarding her with narrowed eyes. "I cannot meddle with his plans, can I? But..."

Her voice fell low, Souma and Daisuke growing tense in the wake of her next words.

"I am Takahiro. Come near clan... die. Understood?"

"Absolutely," Galina agreed crisply with a nod of her head, "Although death will not be necessary, I assure you. Why would I linger in Tokyo, near your clan, when there are Americans to hunt?" She was very well aware that her words might be a touch too light, that there might be more than a hint of laughter in her voice, but sweet Heaven above help her, it had been all she could do to keep those nervous giggles down in her belly.

The matter of the too-few chopsticks had required she find the most interesting spot on the wall right behind Souma's head and just a little to the left, and bite the inside of her lip, hard. But when Ai downed not one - but two - cups of Souma's own sake in less than half a minute or so? Little pink half-moons from her fingernails were gouged into the palms of her hands, evidence of just how hard she fought to keep down the skittish laughter that wanted to shake her to pieces.

"And since Souma is not Takahiro - currently, of course? Well how perfectly convenient for the life and health of our working relationship!" Galina did not miss the look Souma gave Ai when she had said as much, and the Russian spymaster pushed her own mostly full cup of warm sake to him with a playful, knowing little lift of one eyebrow, to soften the blow.

"To say nothing of my own - oh, and I do believe I will simply have tea. Truly, do help yourself Souma." Galina took a deep breath, knowing very well she was not going to be able to eat another thing, her nerves singing a shrill tune through her whole body.

"We were talking before you arrived Ai, your brother and I," she said as her dark gaze returned to Souma, a small smile turning one corner of her mouth upward impishly. "It seems we will be here for four more days in Tokyo, before the ship leaves port. We will be gathering provisions especially for hunting Americans before we disembark on our journey."

God above help her, she just could not stop the words falling from her lips - worse yet, she really did not want to stop them. She was so going to Hell for this one. "Souma has generously offered to teach this poor, silver-tongued Russian woman a whole new skill set and, God as my witness, I swear it is true: I am very excited to learn!"

Ai's gaze narrowed at the lightness of Galina's words... and it only got worse from there.

As the Russian Spy continued to blithely tempt fate word after word, the Takahiro Matriarch appeared more and more ready to do fate's work for it. Her frown deepened, lips drawing into the tightest, thinnest of lines while her hands on-so-slowly slipped into the folds of each other's sleeves. Her entire body tensed, a last courtesy allowing the daring Galina to finish all she had to say, before Ai delivered her-... her...

Ai's form paused, head turning slowly to regard the form of Souma beside her. Sitting still and tall, one hand lightly grasping the cup he had been offered, he remained as he had been since Ai sat down. Calm, still, waiting to see what would come from this unforeseen meeting.

Except, for the wide, unrestrained grin. Except for the free arm clutched tightly around a tightened stomach, just below a chest straining with unreleased mirth. Except for the occasional burst of air from his nose, that he tried to hold back for her benefit, but only seemed to invite a greater rage that Galina had endeared.

"...Brother..."

"Apologies, sister," Souma managed to speak the words without his mirth escaping, though the respect evident in his voice was marred somewhat, lighter than it should have been. Standing apart from them all, Daisuke kept his own features straight, impassive, but something glinted in his eye, something he kept very much to himself. "It's... ah, well..."

He averted his gaze in the end, free hand raising to cover his eyes as another fit of laughter threatened to escape. "...She's not lying."

Ai's response was a deep, heavy sigh, shaking her head as she took the rest of the eel for herself, pointedly ignoring Galina across from her. She lowered her chopsticks to lay them across the now-empty bowl when she was finished, looking towards no one present in the room... but a now-calmed Souma understood who the words she spoke were for.

"You're fine with this, aren't you?"

Quiet words, but he caught them without trouble. His features calmed, though a smile remained, warm enough for both women seated at his table.

"I am." He took a small sip from the cup Galina had passed him, a subtle nod towards Daisuke sending the Fist away to fetch some tea.

"I see..." Ai stood, finally catching Galina in her gaze once more, offering her a slight, grudging bow, before repeating the gesture deeply towards her brother. "Thank you, for the meal, Brother. I will meet you, when you return, yes?"

"Of course." Still seated, Souma responded to her bow with a quiet nod, relaxed now that the tension had fully passed.

"Be safe." She left with those words, Daisuke somehow reappearing in time to open the door for her, to trade a quick, quiet word before she disappeared into the streets. He vanished as quickly as he had appeared, the quiet swishing sounds of a brush heard if one strained their ears.

"That... went well..." Souma shook his own head, lowering his cup and leaning forward to observe the remnants of his lunch. A slight frown crossed his lips at the sight, but he dispelled it with a shrug, retrieving a small bowl. His gaze met Galina's as he lowered the bowl before him, smile growing as he recalled what had just transpired.

"Risky words, Galina." He finally allowed himself the luxury of amusement, a quiet chuckle echoing behind the words. "Know more about yakuza, than I thought."

Her gaze returning to Souma as he spoke, Galina gave the man a small, sideways grin - and then she laughed. She had not caught what passed between brother and sister, not exactly, but the gist was clear enough to her discerning ears. Ai would tolerate her brother's choice, however much she disapproved - and maybe it had been a decision well-lubricated with those two servings of sake?

No matter, there would be no bloodshed. Galina had still bowed respectfully to Ai as she left, far lower than the meager, reluctant bow she'd been given. She steadfastly ignored the pang of hurt she could do nothing to settle as she watched Ai depart, a ghost of wistfulness lingering in her dark eyes. She remained silent for a moment longer, until after the Takahiro Matriach was gone, before letting the breath she held past her lips when Souma's voice washed over her.

"Oh no Souma, I apparently know far less about yakuza than I ought. If I'd understood near so much as I and my foolish pride once believed? I might have avoided a broken rib or two about a month or so ago?" Galina winked slyly at Souma, grinning widely, letting him know without a word that she was merely teasing - and enjoying herself at that.

"No, what I know best is very dangerous people. I grew up among them. Ai is one, and you most certainly are." Such words from most anyone else might have sounded as if they verged on insulting, but spoken as Galina did then? There was not the least doubt, she considered this the very highest of praise.

She shrugged lightly, still smiling as she leaned forward, her matchless voice lowering conspiratorially. "The secret is, never let them see your fear! Dangerous people can smell fear you know, and it drives them simply mad. Let one catch a whiff of your fear, your hesitation or worry or doubt?" She traced the edge of one thumb lightly across her neck, lifting her eyebrows meaningfully.

"You're a dead man... " Her dark eyes widened playfully, mouth pursed to a tiny "o" and her fingers wiggling at him for a moment before her hands fell back to her lap. Galina interlaced her fingers with a sigh, chuckling softly as her expression became more thoughtful. The laughter tapered away as she studied nothing in particular on the small, elegant table, her face inscrutable for several long moments.

- Until her face snapped back up to Souma's, something dark and very dangerous flitting swiftly across her face, no matter the sudden, sly and feral smile. "Come, show me all we will need - free, found, just waiting to be taken, yes? - so we will make dead men of our very own."

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 any 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?"

"Oh Souma, you're just too good to me... " Galina's winsome smile was simply luminous in the confines of the halted carriage. Her fingertips danced lightly over the array of deadly toys that Souma offered, and she hummed softly in the back of her throat as she thoughtfully considered her options. Leaving the rifle was... Well it was a little disappointing actually, being a weapon she could just as easily hike over her shoulder and use only in extremis. But this was Souma's world, and she was merely a willing participant and co-conspirator in 'liberating' mislaid supplies - Galina trusted him without question.

She hadn't the least idea who these people were to Souma or the Takahiro clan, and would not have cared even if she did. More yakuza, she knew as much, and not a clan allied with the Takahiro clan, or even one that enjoyed the similar patronage of the nobility.

Galina shrugged to herself, almost imperceptibly. She was simply here for the adventure, for the chance to forget – if only for a short while – the weight of the grief they carried, and to know the feeling of doing something, anything at all, to get them one step closer to the Americans who’d eviscerated their families and homes. Heaven be merciful, but Galina couldn’t imagine having to sit on her hands for the next four days, waiting idly before the start of a trans-Pacific trip where they would - in all likelihood - have little else to do but wait some more (even if the scenery was vastly improved. Hawaii would, undoubtedly, be a spectacular layover).

And so in the spirit of devil-may-care that had seized her at the moment, Galina’s fingers traipsed lightly over a set of three kunai, and grinned. “And you flatter me too, and my small, near insignificant skill with throwing… “ She batted her eyes to Souma “innocently,” and then laughed.

Galina took a sip of the tea Souma suggested be brought with them against the cool night, and was instantly grateful for the warmth. “Hmm… “ Her thoughts hummed silently in the back of her throat as she considered the choice Souma had originally offered, the levity fading from her face as she eyed the spikes and the eggs. “Well I’ll be honest Souma, and say I’ve never used your ‘spice to blind,’ so it would be wiser for me to simply stick with what I do know… “ Galina took the spikes, tucking then into the bindings of her belt wrap.

“Injury I can certainly do, and… Oh!” The young woman took up the roll of the razor-thin wire, and then two of the smaller stakes, her eyes wide with a sudden excitement. Cutting off about a foot and a half of the thin wire was easy enough doubled over her kindjal blade, setting it aside as she quickly notched the smaller wooden stakes with that same knife’s edge. Nimble fingers swiftly and easily knotted one end of the wire over and around each notch. Galina sheathed her kindjal once more, and then took up one of the small stake dowels in each hand. She held up her newly made “toy” proudly before Souma, a tiny shaft of light glinting wickedly off the garrote’s wire. The delight and almost childlike pride in Galina’s smile was absolutely unmistakable. She was truly enjoying herself, this moment, and this incomparable company sitting across from her now.

“Yours if you like, a little something from me to you Souma,” she laughed softly with a mischievous lift of her eyebrows. “And yes, you can consider this a small bribe so I may at least bring my shashka? It’s a quiet blade… Mostly… And will certainly help the crushing disappointment, with Daisuke holding my rifle for me.“ Galina sighed loudly, deeply, and with absolutely no true conviction whatsoever.

"Bribe, accepted."

Grin only growing wider, Souma accepted the garrote gladly. How could he not? After all, what better sight was there to see, than Galina immediately finding a way to make another too out of the various ones he had collected. Imagination, resourcefulness, the ability to take whatever you find and make it something to further your task... she truly did know more about his profession than she herself believed.

So he stored away his blinding eggs and took the garrote without a second thought, carefully winding the wire up around those twin stakes to store as well The cart stopped as he did, Daisuke soon appearing to open Souma's door. The Fist offered his boss a short staff of bamboo first, before nodding and moving on to open the door for Galina next.

"Blades are good." He nodded towards his staff as he spoke. A new one, this, his previous 'cane' lost amidst the charred rubble of the Takahiro compound. New, untested, and though part of him wished to save its first christening for the Americans who had cost him so much, he knew it would be needed now. Quietly, his hands twisted around the staff, pulling the top free to reveal a narrow, leaf-bladed spike. Jutting out as far as his hand was long and sharpened to a wicked edge all the way to it's point, he held it up for Galina to see, before replacing it's 'sheath' once more.

"And if said no, couldn't bring mine, could I?" A quiet chuckle echoed behind those words, Souma taking the rope and hooks as he stepped outside to view their target. Opposite, Daisuke held the door patiently for Galina, a long box with a heavily-padded interior waiting on hand to accept her rifle.

For quiet they would have to be, in order to succeed. Hiding down alleys between homes and stores boarded up for the night could be seen the hints of a wall, one that enclosed the center of this seedy region. There were no 'gates' to access the compound inside, no road that led up to it directly, and a second barricade of lofty buildings, open gardens and ramshackle huts to further camouflage it from view. One could be mistaken for believing there was no 'compound' within, what alleys they took either leading them back out to another part of 'town'... or ending at the end of a sharp knife or jagged stone.

A secluded hideout watched by people raised to be paranoid of outsiders and the law. The police squads only made cursory visits to the area, the noble class choosing to leave these people to their own devices... so long as profit existed for them to exploit.

Souma and Galina had to slip in unseen, under cover of night, around the wandering gazes of whomever might be at watch. They needed to find the 'supplies' they desired, then escape with their prizes in tow, without the entire area being alerted to their intrusion. Quiet and quick was the plan, but blood would be spilled if necessary, and woe to any Souma came across then...

...To any Souma and Galina came across. He chuckled again at the thought, looking back from the area they would soon infiltrate, to the Russian spy who would accompany him. Resourceful, quick-thinking, and deadly with a blade...

Woe to them, indeed.

Galina laughed, rolled her eyes good-naturedly and fought the urge to stick her tongue out at Souma as he took her little "bribe" - and then proceeded, with a vaguely smug grin of his own, to display his own wicked blade encased in its bamboo sheath. Rather than make a pretense of "petulant child," she nodded appreciatively, giving Souma a genuine-if-cockeyed little grin. It truly was a beautiful blade and for all that Souma impressed the importance of silence and stealth as they made their "supply run?" Galina could not help but hope to witness all such a weapon was capable of in Souma’s hands.

Not, of course, that Galina - of all people in this world - should write off the notion Souma might choose to forego the blade altogether, and simply beat to death anyone who stood between them and the "supplies."

That thought made her laugh - however softly - all over again.

She readily turned over her rifle to Daisuke to store away as she slid out the door he held for her, smiling up at the mountainous man as she did so. Odd that, how trust could be given over so easily - not, of course, that Daisuke trusted her. No, likely no more than Ai did. The faith she marveled at was her own – her own trust in Souma. And Souma trusted Daisuke without question - so, without question, Galina would as well.

There was little else to say in the moment as the pair left the sanctuary of the cart. Silence and darkness were their dearest companions as they moved, Galina following after Souma quietly. He had explained the bare bones of the plan, outlined all that they intended to do, where they would go inside and how they would get out again of course, with all their ‘liberated’ goods. But this was a section of the city she had never visited during her stay in Tokyo, and Galina was content to let him lead.

For the moment the wide-brimmed straw hat hung by its strings off her back, her lovely blue kimono exchanged for the rough clothes of a working man. For the moment though, she wore no sandals, her feet and calves bound in cloth - all the better to find purchase on the steep wall he led them toward. She stood easily beside Souma, her gaze following his up the sixteen foot height of the stone wall - an entrance all their own! She shot him a quick grin and a wink before she started climbing.

Finger holds first, then toeholds as she lifted herself with the alacrity of a spider in its web, as she made her way. Mere moments passed before she finally peered over the top, cautiously, and finding neither look-outs nor sentries – exactly as Souma had said. This small section of the yakuza compound was as vulnerable as a babe sleeping in its crib, and Galina almost laughed aloud again at how apt Souma’s description had been, as if they were simply, effortlessly, gathering fruit already fallen from the tree. She waved him up quickly before pulling herself over the top, crawling the few feet toward a drop that would take her to the roof of a small shed, and from there to the ground on the other side.

As she waited for Souma, Galina pulled the sandals from the shoulder pack that also contained her shashka, pulling them on and then pulling the straw hat low over her head. At a glance, she would appear no more than a boy, her woman’s figure bound tightly beneath the work shirt (a binding that, in truth, still helped relieve some of the ache in her mending ribs).

Yes, simply a young boy beside his older brother – or father perhaps? Because this youth would defer all speaking, if necessary, to his elder - as was right and proper of course. They were simply two of any number of men occasionally hired as laborers by this clan to move things to the ports, throughout the city or even to the countryside, unquestioning and content to remain so, as long as they were paid. That so much of these goods had to be moved under cover of the night? The pay was better still, and any questions simply disappeared…

Galina peered up to Souma from beneath the brim of the hat when he joined her, flashing him her most winning grin before her gaze turned back to the ground. Her face almost completely in shadow once more, Galina followed Souma as they moved toward the warehouse, their strides easy and casual and, for all the world, as if they had every last right in the world to be traipsing through the middle of enemy territory.

Souma watched, impressed, as Galina gracefully scaled the wall before him. Like Galina, he had traded robes for rough-made tunic and trousers, his straw hat beaten and worn from years of weather. Torn boots of cloth and hide matched his gloves, but as he slipped his cane through his tunic and scaled the wall after Galina, they proved to be more than patchwork clothing.

Curved, metal spikes secured with cloth around his hands and feet dug firmly into the wall, finding even the smallest purchase and turning them into easy steps for the practiced Yakuza. He scaled the structure with ease, muscles pulling and pushing him up swift and sure, right behind his partner. Quickly undoing the cloth ties that held the claws in place as he reached the top of the wall, Souma stashed them in a small pouch at his side, before drawing his staff once more and bouncing down from wall to low roof to ground.

He hit the ground in a crouch, legs collapsing swiftly to absorb the shock with only the barest whisper of sound. His staff touched earth shortly after, and was then his cane once more, supporting a tired, hardworking man on his way back home.

Or that's what he would be, save for the myriad of tricks and traps stored in pouches and pockets on his person, and for the wicked grin he returned to Galina as they made their move.

Side-by-side, they moved slowly towards the warehouse in question. Souma's need for a cane kept his steps short, but it meant they had more time to watch their surroundings. Where others might be, how they walked or where they were looking. Openings in buildings or walls that might serve as lookout posts, or guards who might have the misfortune of deciding to accost them.

There was the terrain as well, to consider. Hard-packed earth, worn down under thousands of footsteps, were hard as stone underfoot. Their steps -soft as they were- still kicked up wisps of dust and sand, and those who stomped across, or who's horses clopped by, were easily heard across the expansive compound. Good ground for running, for fighting, for horses, not for hiding oneself, a trap, or a body.

But there were gardens, too. Small pockets of life carefully cultivated away from buildings. Copses of bamboo hugging shrines or statues. Tenderly-trimmed cherry trees or arrangements of flowering brush. There was even a small pond nearby, the steady echo of it's fountain keeping time with them as they made their way. Beauty to be seen from the structures where these people lived and worked, but set far enough away to not be used against them.

At least, to some extent.

"We enter, see setup..." Souma whispered the words as they walked, face angling slightly towards Galina. A conversation between family at the end of the day, spoken in a place where privacy was at a premium. Those who lived here found time to share quiet words and sacred moments alone when they could. "How well led. How supplies kept. How well watched. Let us know where walk, what take, when leave."

He likely didn't need to tell Galina any of this, but the words rose from years of repetition. How many times had he heard similar words from his father or mentors? How many times had he said the same to Daisuke or Goemon? The one in charge shared the information, the ones following found how best to use it. Souma didn't doubt Galina, of anyone he had worked with, Ai or Daisuke were the only ones he might trust more... simply because of how often they had worked together. But Galina wasn't a simple hired hand, she was a master in her own right, bearing a skillset that both overlapped his own and moved beyond. She would know exactly what she needed to do when they stepped inside.

And as they stepped inside, they found themselves greeted by a maze of crates, sacks and leather cases. Some form of organization was there, maybe by type, stacks and piles separated by narrow paths on the floor. Only the center was bare, a loading area for the carts that were brought it, people weaving their way back and forth to load and unload as needed. It was a busy scene, everyone moving to their own purpose, weaving fearlessly among the supplies as they vanished and other reappeared.

Souma had to pause and pull his hat down, shadowing his eyes from the flickering lights that illuminated the interior... and hiding the wide, gleaming grin that was growing on his lips.

"Perfect." The words dripped from between his teeth with feral excitement, Souma gently nudging them towards one side and the piles of supplies scattered around there. "Now, to find our share..."

Galina nodded curtly, her smile unseen beneath the wide brim of her straw hat as she listened to Souma's instructions, biting her lip to keep the girlish laughter back when she heard the feral glee in his voice.

No, she had not been immediately pleased to discover the warehouse far busier than she originally anticipated. But as swiftly as the disappointment came, so too it went. There was never any sense dwelling where nothing could be changed and Galina was, if anything, quite sensible. Besides, if Souma wanted a layout? They needed to know how well guarded the supplies were, and how well watched? Hmph. Well it was just as easy to go unnoticed in plain sight because if one looked as if he belonged? Surely he must of course! After all, it was unthinkable that anyone not meant to be here (but perhaps the suicidal?) would traipse into a busy yakuza compound with evil intent.

High ground. They needed high ground and the young boy did not hesitate for a moment, with no more than a perfunctory "Hai" for his lame elder brother as he began to climb the bamboo shelving swiftly, hand over hand until he stood easily atop the highest platforms. Swiftly he maneuvered among the boxes and packages, moving purposefully as he inspected the various labels.

Easily he leapt between the aisles overhead until he finally at the central loading area, watching as the horse carts were loaded in the center for some long moments before he returned to his brother. The young boy shimmied down the shelving, leaping some feet above the ground to land lightly beside his brother. He leaned in easily, bowing deferentially, his voice low and soft as the pair discussed their own business, just another two workers lost in the nocturnal buzz of this yakuza hive.

"The main passages form a cross of sorts, about 30 yards in length with three separate cross bars each. There are four exits, but only two large enough for horse carts, which of course 'our share' will require."

"We've got eight armed guards carrying both pistols and blades: two at each exit. although there are at least four different 'administrators' who are maintaining an inventory of sorts at the central loading area. The lion's share of 'our share' is fortunately is located mainly in this wing: rifles, ammunition, and not a few good quality blades at that." Galina dared to peer up into Souma's face, her dark eyes glistening and bright with undeniable excitement.

"Though explosives are located in the next passage over, which I simply don't believe we can let slide by us," she added, a quick jerk of her head toward the right as her face dropped to the ground once more. "I mean, what kind of real fun could we possibly have without an explosion or two? Besides, I hear Americans are uncannily fond of things that go 'boom,' and I do so aim to please... " The young woman chuckled warmly, shrugging her slender shoulders.

"And so I leave it to your discretion and wisdom now Souma: would you prefer your exit this night quiet and serene, or do you aim to indulge that inner-American of yours, that Ai was forever telling me about, hmm?" Even if Souma could not see her face at the moment, the laughter in Galina's voice was unmistakable.