1963-09-13 - A Deal With the Devil
Summary: After time in the Project against his will, Akihiro gets a say…
Related: Missing Pieces Plot
Theme Song: None
akihiro deathstrike 


Akihiro has been relatively quiet in the last couple of days, hopping from bar to bar and attending any parties he happens across. Right now he's found himself leaning against a wall near the mouth of an alley that hides the entrance to a college party destination. But the teen doesn't look to really be enjoying himself right now though, his brows furrowed and his face thoughtful as he smokes a cheap cigarette.

*

Nearly silent paces drive a thin Asian woman dressed in a fitted grey pant suit to where Akihiro leans against the wall. Her lips quirk upwards into a sublime sort of near-smile as she peers over her shoulder. A medium height man steps behind her. His black suit, uneven paces (is that a limp?), and dark sunglasses only make his jet black hair seem all the darker.

He reaches into the pocket of his jacket and extracts a pack of cigarettes. One is immediately put into his lips. "Got a light, son?"

The woman just stands next to him. Her arms fold over her chest and her head cants to the side, theoretically sizing Akihiro up.

*

"Sure do." Akihiro replies, his former expression replaced with an easy smile as he extends a book of matches the the man. "Something I can help you with?" He brings his free hand up to collect the cigarette from between his lips, attention shifting over to the woman as she sizes him up.

*

The woman remains fixed in place, continuing to study Akihiro with an of intrigue. Her eyes flit towards the man. For his part, the man is amiable enough. He accepts the matches and lights his cigarette, "Much obliged, young man." He puffs on the cigarette, taking a long drawn out breath from it, holding it in his lungs, and then slowly blows it out.

"There's little more satisfying than a fresh cigarette entering your lungs," he observes as his eyes sunglass-concealed eyes level at the younger man. "You're not from around these parts, are you, son?" His head cants to the side and he lifts a hand, "Immigrants built this country, you won't find any objection from me. Just wondering what you make of us American types."

*

"Just like everybody else, trying to stay alive." Akihiro is starting to look a little uncomfortable. "If you'll excuse me though, I'm supposed to be meeting somebody." As he speaks he begins edging his way around, but not turning his back to anybody.

*

The man takes a step back, and the woman responds in kind, following the silent directive from her presumed employer. "Of course, son," he chuckles gruffly as he puffs on his cigarette again. "I ask because there are things that can be done, son. Great things. Grand things. All in the name of goddamned American freedom. Life. Liberty. And damned happiness. If you want it." He laughs this time — the sound rumbles as it begins low in the pit of his stomach, and rolls out in spiels of laughter that emit from the back of his throat like a low lying thunder.

He coughs hard, causing his merriment to cease and his head shakes slightly. "I came here today with an offer, nothing more, nothing less." His head tilts as the woman curiously steps in front of him, a measure of protection rather than offence. "You see, I know what you can do." He rubs his chin with his hand. "You see, my people recovered a video of you and what you can do. And we want…" he rubs his chin again. "To hone it."

*

"I don't think you do." Akihiro replies, he isn't moving anymore, and he sure isn't smiling. "I guess the video you recovered wasn't me escaping from the last place that wanted to make me a weapon. But, I'm sure it was similar to what happened when they decided to give my father metal bones."

*

The man hums, and the woman remains between the pair of men. Her hands drop to her sides and she eyes Akihiro curiously, but she remains where she is, fixed, almost like a piece of furniture than an actual person.

"The man cracks a smile again. "I'm not William Stryker," a name that perhaps Akihiro is familiar with by now. "Some people in this business," whatever business that is, "want those they hone to have no thinking in the matter." His tongue clucks, and that same serpentine smile remains. "No. I like my weapons to have minds. Makes them sharper," he taps his temple. "Instead," he lifts his eyebrows, "I seek out those that want to be exceptional." He puffs on his cigarette again. "And I give them opportunity. All in the name of goddamned American freedom." He smiles a crocodile smile behind that cigarette — his teeth sharp echoes of something vile and grim.
"

*

Akihiro drops his cigarette, crushing it under his heel. "Then what's going on with her?" he jerks his thumb in the direction of the woman. "And I like to think I'm exceptional already. Haven't ran across anybody not related to me that can compete up close."

*

"Who, Yuriko?" the man cackles after he asks the question. "She's just like that. She was always rather… " his lips purse as he studies her profile "…stiff. Even before — " he cackles again. "She was never particularly fun at parties."

The woman's expression deadens. "You waste your breath, Director. This insolent boy will not be honed." Her jaw tightens. "We should move along and find someone more worthy who wants to fight the Red threat." Her arms cross tightly over her chest.

*

A moment or two pass before Akihiro nods slightly. "There any benefits to this? Gotta be some payoff for the self loathing." He turns to really look over at Yuriko. "I think between training as a samurai and spending four years under Burr's thumb, I'm just slow to trust people that show up wanting to train me."

*

"Ha!" the man chuckles. "I am not looking to train you." He lifts a hand towards Yuriko, "Although Yuriko would see to an adjustment." His eyebrows lift, "No, son. I'm looking to transform you." That same grim smile exposes his teeth. He turns his head to face Yuriko.

She rolls her eyes.

"Look son, I am in a position to gift you with something in exchange for your loyalty. But we both must know the cost." He chews his lip and leans against the brick building that forms the alley. "What I offer is one of the strongest metals in the world. For those bone claws of yours." His brows lift. "But in baby steps." He chuckles mirthlessly. "You see we've had some — " his lips twist to the side indecisively " — loyalty problems in the past. And the process to give you something truly incredible is expensive." His lips purse. "So I offer you strength in measured steps." He lifts a single finger, "You ever want coating to slice better with those claws?" He grins again. "I can provide it. For your loyalty," his eyebrows lift.

"And you prove your worth? Perhaps I'll offer more."

*

Akihiro clenches his fists, thinking back to what his father said. He's quiet for some time, before he nods. "You have a deal." He doesn't really relax any, but he isn't showing any outward signs of aggression.

*

The woman looks unimpressed with this turn of events, but she makes no remark. Instead, the man reaches out a hand to shake the younger man's hand, "Good." His tone is gruff with measured aggression. "But perhaps before you get carried away, you should know what your loyalty will, at least in the short-term, cost you." His eyes narrow. "We've designed a fail-safe in our newest assets; a mechanism by which they could self-destruct should it come to it. And while someone of your talents," his eyebrows lift behind the dark glasses, "may prevent you from incurring any permanent injury, brains don't heal well, and explosions have a tendency to — " his lips twist to the side " — not be terribly self contained."

"Your agreement mean you agree to the procedure whereby we can and will track you. Do you understand?"

Yuriko shifts her weight and eyes the director again before finally really giving Akihiro her attention, "You will have a week to consider this proposal. If it is acceptable, you will meet me here this time next week. Then I will take you to have the first procedure completed and provide you with your first assignment under my direction. Do you understand?"

*

"I was looking to get away anyway." Akihiro sighs. "This is a better option than wandering around homeless. So, I guess I can live with that." The teen reaches out to take the offered hand.

*

The man shakes Akihiro's hand heartily before releasing it. "Excellent. I look forward to working with you, Howlett." He shifts his weight and drops his hand to his side. "Miss Oyama will meet you here in one week's time." He smiles grimly before finally handing Akihiro the book of matches back.

The pair turn with Yuriko leading the way. But just before they disappear from view, the man turns to speak over his shoulder, "You can call me Director Colcord." He grins grimly and then disappears from sight.

*

Akihiro furrows his brows slightly, a chill creeping down his spine. The teen throws his collar up and heads off towards a slightly roughed up motorcycle, kicking it to life and rolling off into the night.

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