They’re a motley pair. A jogger girl and a scruffy black dog with a katana. If the cops around here weren’t bribed to hell and back anyway, there’d be plenty of people who would remember these two just off of how distinct they are. They’re a study in contrast. Dark hair, light hair. Tall, short. Light eyes, dark eyes.[break]

It goes on and on. Hitoshi doesn’t care to dwell on how they’re different. Whenever they stop at a street corner, he finds he’s standing on his tip-toes. Everybody’s taller than him here. It never used to get to him, but it’s starting to creep up on the edge of his insecurities, trying to worm its way into the camp.[break]

“Huh? You askin’ me on a date?” Despite popular belief, he knows how to make a joke. He lets the inevitable mood sink in for a moment before grinning. “Nah, nah. I getcha. Just bein’ nice. You seem pretty comfortable around here. You from ‘round these parts? If you know any good spots, I wouldn’t mind tryin’ out the local cuisine. Just none of this fast food crap.”[break]

If their dirty deed for the day bothers him, he doesn’t let it show. Indeed, he seems downright comfortable with the notion of murder – enough for it to not sour the mood or ruin his appetite.

A job well done dinner? The dog quirks his eyebrows. An eyebrow quirk soon becomes a wide-eyed grin. They say the quickest way to an animal’s heart is through its stomach. Like many before here, Naia has bribed a dog with food.[break]
“Yo, for real? Hell yeah. You’re legit, Whitey.” Names are unnecessary in his word – at least for most people. They take years to beat into his brain – if they care to stick around long enough to make a name stick. A car passes by. Just another block or two now, judging by the street name. Although he might not remember people names, streets are easy.[break]
“Y’know, it ain’t hard to just go for a walk. You get bothered on the street or somethin’? Just throw out your Pokemon, scorch some people to a crisp, they’ll leave ya alone. Then you can explore the city all you want, easy peasy. Then you’ll know all the best spots to eat! Plus, you’ll never get lost again.”[break]
Oh, to have the simple mind of a canine.

“You’ll get more people botherin’ ya if you don’t stand up for yourself.” There’s people all around him who just keep to their own. That’s fine in most parts of the world. Not here. They’re surrounded by layers of concrete but it’s all just a jungle in the end. The animals here obey certain rules.[break]

“Burn ‘em? Nah. We’ll just knock on the door. Walk in. Kill ‘em. Easy peasy. They’re not expecting us. Well, not for another couple of days anyway. Chances are, they’ll open up thinkin’ we’re their friend or somethin’. Cleaners’ll come by after we’re done.” You really gotta love being a part of organized crime. You do one tiny part of the task. Someone else comes in to clean up after you.[break]

“Listen up.” He chides her, hearing trepidation in her tone. She’s treating him like some bloodthirsty, dangerous creature. “I don’t go out of my way to kill people, but it’s my job. It’s what I’m good at. I do it well. I don’t pick fights unless the bosses tell me to pick ‘em, but I sure end ‘em when it’s time.”[break]

As they arrive there at the apartment complex, he looks at Naia. Truly sees her. Looks her up and down. There’s nothing lecherous in his eyes. They don’t linger anywhere inappropriate. But he takes in all of her, sees her as an animal sees someone, bathed in instincts rather than any intelligent thought.[break]

“But it’s good for ya to see me that way. There’s a lot of crazy people in this job. Lots of crazy people…” He starts his ascent towards their targets.

It's his turn to be confused. The confusion is a novel of emotion rolling across his face. Eyebrows raise. A brow quirks. His eyes scan across her, as if he can read some hidden deeper meaning to her words by studying this woman closely. When no deeper meaning seems to reveal itself to her by the act of studying, he voices his confusion. Two words at first, which inevitably cascade into many more.[break]
"Eh? Pokemon?" The notion of the perps pulling out Pokemon makes him snort. Dismissive of the notion, waving it off, he gets into the elevator. Elevators are awkward for humans, but the dog knows nothing about that notion. Leaning against a wall, he presses the right floor. Lets the old school elevator start climbing.[break]
"If you let 'em draw out their Pokemon, yer too slow. Don't really matter what they're packin. Cut their hands off and they can't grab their balls." He says this with a straight face, as if there's no other way that sentence could be read at all. A little arrow at the top of the elevator starts counting them up. Scrolling across the numbers like a timer advancing inexorably towards destruction.[break]
"You sure you've done this before? Never met someone who overthinks killin' this much." They're two separate species, speaking two separate languages. A human is confused at a dog.[break]
The elevator lets them out. He's been briefed on the room. Not far now. Hitoshi stops in the hallway, looks up at her. Searching her again.[break]
"Yer packin', right? Somethin' besides pokeballs? Gun? Knife?"