Their laughter was so loud that eyes, many angered pairs of them, stole sideway glances at the quartette seated outside the Sugar High Sweets Shoppe in downtown Tokyo. Perhaps oblivious, perhaps indifferent, the four continued on laughing, joking, sipping steaming mugs of caramel cappuccinos and decaf lattes. A redhead holding a crumbled biscotti, half eaten, half dipped in white foam, waved it mockingly before the silver orbs of her partner.

“Yup, she fell right off the back,” Autumn outstretched her hand as the personification of Marie’s body. The fingertips tilted downwards quickly and smacked against the glass surface of their table. “And fell face first into the mud. It was a priceless moment.”

Marie, with arms crossed, just frowned.

The Sugar High Sweets Shoppe, owned by a long line of business friends, was one of the more modish hotspots of the city. Many knew the store’s location, squeezed between a barber shop and an Italian-inspired boutique, and had heard a few notorious tales about the goings-on inside. The décor was strictly 60’s-enthused, the food was always laced with love, and the waitresses were topnotch and cute to boot. American black rhythm and blues, mostly Gladys Knight, the Supremes, and Aretha Franklin, played over the replicated jukebox by the entrance. Even in the dead of summer, the air conditioning was never on. Likewise, the windows and doors were always left open to let the mournful hum of soul mix with the comforting ruckus of the street. Though unusually small for a café in this day and age, the Sugar High had reinvented the concept of ‘dining room’. Traced back to the ties the original owners had with the Yakuza, the Shoppe had unprecedented control over the communal sidewalk and alleyways surrounding it. Where other businesses were given citations on misuse of pubic property and advertising, the café had, quite rebelliously, turned the side lanes and walkways into an extension of itself. Simply put, the Shoppe called all the space from the door to the curb its veranda. Even with this advantage, the Sugar High was always packed, be it the infamous dead hours between the lunch rush and dinner, or the early hours of the morning. Lucky enough to get a seat, any seat, out on the sidewalk, were a group of four who spoke as though they had passed the line of acquaintance into something more.

“Are you sure its ok for you to be skipping work like this, Youji-kun? Ken-kun?” Marie asked as she dipped her finger into her cinnamon-sprinkled drink. It was obvious from the exigency in her voice that she wanted, and ultimately had, moved the topic away from her humiliations.

“There’s no need for yobisute on our names.” The man opposite her replied contentedly. He sat with one leg stretched out against the metal stands of the glass table, his head resting lazily in one bronzed hand. “The two of you can just call me Youji.”

Incredibly tall for man of Japanese decent, Youji appeared more Western than any of them. With bleached hair highlighted in gold, and salient green contacts, he appeared godlike, unique, one of a kind. Every few seconds he would tilt his head down, focusing his eyes on Marie, and grin charmingly. She hadn’t a chance.

“Our manager was busy on the phone anyway.” The younger man beside Youji commented. “He didn’t even notice us gone.”

A few inches shorter, with brunette bangs that hung across his deep, russet eyes, Ken was a striking contrast to his friend. Apart from the tanned, olive skin that both shared, Ken appeared more native to Honshu. With dark, slanted eyes that boasted a thick fan of black lashes and a strong, angled chin, he also appeared unique in a normal, usual sort of way.

“We don’t really get any customers until around five.” Youji continued to explain in his deep, urbane tone. He flicked a dying cigarette against his mug and threw the butt to the ground. “That’s when the nearby high schools let out.”

“And you get a lot of customers from those schools?” Marie asked, her eyebrows raising amusingly. Crimson lips touched the warmed edge of her glass as she took a small sip. Despite the heat, the breeze had picked up, fluttering the nylon edges of the pink and orange umbrella attached to their table. Marie traced the back of her neck with her palm, gathering her long mane with the outside of her hand. In a quick twist, her hair was brought forward and held firmly against her shoulder as another rush of humid air danced through the veranda. “Seems a little suspicious, if you ask me.”

“The two of us don’t go after High School students.” Youji explained with a doubtful laugh. He nudged Ken’s arm as he dug into his pocket for another cigarette. The lighter was resting against the porcelain saucer that had come with his drink, and his free hand tapped on it absently. “So you don’t have to worry about anything.”

“We’ll see.” Came Ken’s quick reply. He shook his head in distaste, but kept a smile on his face. “I wouldn’t want to blatantly say that Youji’s a liar, but--”

A waitress, dressed in a short, yellow-ribbed skirt that bounced overtop a pleated hem of lace, suddenly neared the table that the four sat around. The apron overtop was of a twilled silk, lined with Victorian-styled fabric the same color as the bodice and sandals. Each server’s hair, including this one, was pulled back, curled, and fitted with a small, fringed, maid’s crown. The name of the café was written on the empty, black tray that she hugged to her prominent chest.

“Is everything alright?” The waitress bent down and picked up a few used napkin from around Youji’s dessert plate. She removed a new one from her apron and neatly slipped it underneath his cup. Another stirrer was added to Autumn’s cappuccino, and Marie was supplied a small handful of sugar. “Can I get you guys anything else?”

“We’re fine, Sachiko-chan.” Youji smiled up at her, nodding his head gratefully for her attentive service. She blushed deeply, her dark eyes shifting away from his, and pulled the tray up to her chin. “If you could, the bill.”

“Hai, Onii-sama.” Sachiko bowed sincerely and turned to leave. A moment later, and after a considerable pause, she turned back, the rouge on her cheeks deepening. With eyes still darting away, she opened her mouth to speak, but found that her true voice had caught in her throat. Verbally excusing her actions, she bowed once more. “Hai, the check. One moment.”

As she clumsily made her way back into the Shoppe, having bumped into another waitress and a young man on the way, three sets of eyes questionably watched her disappear. Lead by Ken’s, Autumn and Marie’s glanced over at a bowed, slightly grinning, wholly satisfied Youji.

“What was that about, hm?” Ken pressed his lips together warily. “I know you come here often, Youji, but--”

“She’s a friend of Sakura’s.” Youji turned his head swiftly to meet Ken’s gaze. The glare was understanding enough to silence the unspoken accusations. “She stops by the store every now and then, ok?”

“That reminds me,” Autumn suddenly broke in as she rested her arms on the table. She inattentively toyed with the bracelets on her wrist, clicking them together as she spoke. “Why a flower shop? Seems a lil random to me.”

“Well,” Ken jumped at the opportunity to answer. With his fingers pinching the crumbs on his plate, a soft smile grew on his face. “The four of us, Aya and Omi as the other two, used to work odd jobs separately before we all met a few years ago.”

“And, what, you just decided to open a flower shop together?” Autumn interrogated. She leaned forward, the curiosity in her eyes easily mistaken for skepticism. “Seems a little too discreet, if ya ask me.”

“It’s surprising how profitable the floral industry is these days.” Ken could only shrug. Beside him, Youji offered no help in defending their livelihood. He had, instead, taken it upon himself to trace the outline of Marie’s lips, then her jaw line, her neck, the delicate curve of her shoulders, with his intoxicating stare. A prompt nudge to the ribs brought him back to reality. “And the four of us have gotten used to. We kind of enjoy it now, ne, Youji?”

“Yeah, I find it rewarding to work there.” Youji tugged on the thin fabric of his shirt, soothing the skin on his side. Autumn’s furrowed brows caused him to quickly justify his response. “Momoe-san, the owner of the KoneSu, lets us schedule our own hours. She also converted the upstairs into an apartment for us. We pay rent, but not much.”

“So you live with your boss? Same with Autumn and I!” Marie said excitedly, her eyes squinting as a large smile grew on her face. She ran a finger underneath the neck of her shirt, billowing it out to allow air to wash over her warm skin. The startled look from Autumn didn’t deter her from asking more questions. “How did ya four meet anyway?”

The question caused the grin on Ken’s pale lips to quiver slightly. His eyebrows arched, his jaw tensed, and for the first time that afternoon, he faulted and looked to his side. Youji, quite the opposite, couldn’t help but let a chuckle form deep in his throat.

“Wait, why so much about us?” Youji rolled up the helm of his work shirt as he spoke. “Tell us something about yourselves. It’s obvious you two aren’t Japanese.”

“I’m German.” Autumn pressed a hand to her collar, then flicked her wrist towards the brunette. “And Marie is American.”

“Ah, I could tell by her accent.” Youji nodded jokingly, a cigarette now dangling from the corner of his mouth. He struck his thumb against the etched wheel at the back of the lighter, and paused as the end of his smoke glowed amber. “Her R’s are too stressed.”

Marie merely waved a hand at him and shook her head lightheartedly.

“Not too many Germans walk around Shibuya.” Ken said, accentuating Autumn’s unique heritage. He licked the last remaining foam off his pointer finger and pushed the plate to the side. “You’re probably one of the first I’ve met that can speak Japanese.”

“Must be your lucky day, ne?” It was quite strange to her. She had been down this road many times, shopped together with Marie and Sofia on more occasions than she could count, and ducking into the neighboring bookstores with Rhia at least twice a week in some months, but the redhead had never paid attention to the Koneko no Sumi Ie even once. “We don’t normally have enough time to shop for flowers. I guess that’s why we never came here.”

“Oh? Too busy? Same with us. We hardly ever get any free time these days.” Ken nodded his head in agreement. “What do you two do career-wise?”

What a gloriously innocent question. The irony tickled Autumn’s mind to the point that she almost snickered. Somehow, she held back by the sheer fact that her mouth was now flooded with coffee. With her eyes dancing over the rim at Marie, she swallowed and set the glass back against the table. It was time to stretch the truth a bit.

“Well…we--”

Autumn’s hands automatically snatched at her bag below her chair, digging through the mess of tissues, change, and the occasional switchblade that she carried around for safety. Her fingers touched cold vibrating plastic and, with a bothered sigh, she pulled it free.

“’Scuse me for a sec.” She requested politely. Ken nodded hesitantly and reclined back in his chair, his arms folding in his lap. Marie, on the other hand, didn’t quite notice. With a swift smack to the brunette’s shoulder, Autumn signaled her brief departure. Marie, now cringing and rubbing the reddening curve of her arm, still remained unresponsive.

“Hai? Moshi Moshi.” Autumn breathed into the phone as she stopped at the edge of the store front. She had walked a fair distance away from her table and unfortunately, without the protection of the umbrella, the direct sun on her pale skin was starting to bother her. “Make this quick.”

“Autumn! Yakata. I didn’t think you would pick up.”

“Rhia?” Autumn bowed her head away from the sky, allowing a thick curtain of scarlet curls to block the glare from her eyes. She rested against the brick wall, her shoulders foreword so her bare skin wouldn’t touch the heated stone. “How everythi--”

“Where are you?!”

Autumn stood silent for a few seconds. Her brows furrowed; she bit the corner of her cheek and concentrated on a warped crack in the sidewalk. The tone of Rhiannon’s voice caused her mind to itch unnervingly. She felt a pang between her eyes, and quickly reached up to sooth it away.

“I know we’re late, but we,” She took a quick pause to spot Marie’s head through the crowd. “Marie wanted to stop and get something to ea--”

“But where are you?”

Don’t tell her you’re on a date. Autumn exhaled, and winced as her shade of hair parted for a brief moment.

“The Koneko no Sumi Ie flower shop.” She finally answered. Her left leg bent and rested on the red brick behind her, moving restlessly as each lie slipped past her lips. “Marie and I wanted to get some flowers for So--”

“I heard something.”

Autumn’s leg slipped back to the ground. Checking to see if anyone was beside her, she lifted her head and crossed a single arm against her stomach. Threading a finger into the belt loops of her jeans, she tugged them as she spoke.

“You fuckin’ heard something?” The redhead pulled the cell phone away from her ear. She could hear Rhiannon breathing loudly into the receiver. “Yer gunna havta give me more than that.”

“I was cleaning up a few minutes ago.” Her voice was hurried, borderline frantic. “And I saw Persia came home and-- shit.”

“Something wrong?” Autumn asked as she leaned her head back against the stone. Her eyes shifted to the left, weaving their way between the tables and customers of the café. Sitting a few feet off, with her hands flipping her hair out from around her neck, was Marie. Laughing. Joking. Having fun. “Rhia, talk or I’m hangin’ up.”

“He’s here.”

The statement came out as a muffled whisper. Autumn reached up and touched her cell phone with her free hand, and mockingly covered the reviver with her hand. There was only one way a voice could be muffled.

“Rhia?” She didn’t answer. Louder this time. “Rhiannon. Who’s there?”

“You’re bringing home flowers!” The blond’s voice had completely changed. It was now carefree, joyful. If ever a smile was audible, Rhia’s could be heard clearly through miles of heavy, humid air and static. “I’m sorry Autumn, but Persia just walking in! I think Sofia and Estelle are here, too.”

“Hm? But, didn’t you just--”

“I hope you and Marie get home soon…” There it was. The hysterics had never left. They had only been covered up, suddenly hidden. Some strange, grotesque form of fear was still in Rhia’s voice. Stifled by simulated delight, buried under some forged emotion, Rhiannon was silently speaking through Autumn. “Make sure you bring home some purple Monkshood, ok?”

“You really want flowers?”

“Ok, Autumn?” The redhead could heard recognizable voices in the background. Rhia’s voice, on the other hand, was straining. “Don’t forget.”

The connection abruptly ended. The open link between the two woman shut with a clean click. Autumn’s back then straightened, her shoulders accidentally burning against the scorched brick. A pained sigh hit the air as she jerked forward. Mixed with slight annoyance, and the realization that something had just happened that she didn’t quite comprehend, she turned to walk back.

I can’t fuckin’ leave her home alone anymore. She mumbled as she started back. She’s almost as bad as--

“Who was that?” Autumn jerked back as Marie appeared right before her. The brunette, with eyes arched in a smile, held her arms behind her back and leaned forward into Autumn’s face. She had a slight blush to her cheeks caused by the foolish mixture of hot drinks and humid weather. “Someone interesting?”

“It was Rhia.”

“Oh?” Mild boredom spread across her face. The brim of her hat, which had been long enough to shade Autumn’s eyes as well as her own, shook and receded as Marie took a step backwards. “What did that hooch want?”

“We gotta get home.”

“I guess we’ve taken up a lot of your time.” Youji stepped up beside them, his hands deep in the pockets of his work pants. A look of disappointment glistened in his eyes. “We should have figured you two had somewhere important to go. We apolo--”

“Oh, no, no, no. We’ve had fun! Right, Aut?” A side glance illuminated the fact that the redhead was in her own world. “Autumn? Gomen ne, Youji, but could you give us a moment?”

“Of course.” Youji nodded once and took a step back towards the table, he hand slipping out of his pocket. A pack of cigarettes twirled in his palm before he flipped the paper lid open with his thumb. He flashed the brunette a soft look and turned.

“Autumn Razel Raselvich, what is wrong with you?” Marie pinched her friend’s arm firmly. Her hands reached up and snatched the sunglasses off Autumn’s eyes. In a swift moment, they closed and were safety out of reach behind her back. “There. Can you see those two men over there now? You’re little attitude might scare them aw--”

“I really think we needa get home…”

“Why? Because of Rhia?” Marie’s voice lowered. Her hand reappeared from behind her, palm now opened. Autumn didn’t move to retrieve her glasses. “What did she say?”

“She said she heard somethin’.” Autumn recited, her eyes dancing around before her, searching Marie’s face for answers. “And to get home.”

“Have we taken too long?” The brunette asked, reaching over to grab her friend’s wrist. Turning it towards her face, she read the silver watch and frowned. “It’s only four. They shouldn’t expect us home until five-ish.”

“She wanted us to buy some purple Monkshood, too.” Autumn checked her watch as well, just to confirm. Beyond Marie’s shoulder, she could see the outlines of Youji and Ken. Their heads were turned towards them, but their eyes shifted quickly. Their table behind them was being cleared and wiped down by their waitress. “Maybe Estelle and Persia needs us to do somethin’?”

“They want us to do something else?” Marie rose her chin, annoyingly shaking her head. She shrugged up her shoulders and crossed her arms to get her point across. “Aren‘t we already out on an errand for Sofia? Aren’t we already doin’ something?”

“Why the fuck are ya complainin’?” Autumn pushed past her. She was stopped a few feet away to wait for a group of high school girls to walk into the Sugar High. “The fact that we’re leavin’ will save you from makin’ a fool outta yerself. You were practically stripping Youji naked with yer eyes. ”

“Well,” Marie’s smile was back as she displayed both her hands to Autumn. “Can’t do that with these in public, ya know.”

“We still hafta get Sof’s medication.” Autumn remembered, deliberately ignoring the brunette. “After we buy those flowers, we’ll swing by the pharmacy and then catch a cab before it gets too late.”

“I swear, if it isn’t one thing, it’s another.” Marie whistled as she followed Autumn back to the table. Her arms stretched out behind her, fists clenches, head arched towards the sky. “Do this, do that. Pick up this, go kill--”

“Honestly, Marie.” Autumn turned and reached a hand up to the brunette’s mouth. Her bangles clanked against Marie’s chin as they stood in the center of the dining room “It’s as though you want them to hear--”

“Hear what?”

Apparently, the two had stopped right before their own table. Youji, with his wallet slipping into his back pocket, and Ken were standing behind their chairs, looking curiously at the two woman.

“That we need to pick up some purple Monkshood for a friend at home.” Autumn snapped quickly. She laced her arm into the straps of her purse and picked up from under her seat. As she dug around blindly for Sof’s prescription, Autumn felt a poke to her side. Folded, and very much crumpled, between two of Marie’s fingers was the wanted slip of paper. Irritated, Autumn grabbed it away and looked towards Ken. “You wouldn’t happen to sell what we need at the KoneSu, would you?”

“We do.” Ken said as he frowned slightly. “But that’s a strange type of flower to get for a friend.”

“Oh?” Marie cocked her head to the side as she wrapped her hands around Autumn’s forearm. She held tight even as the redhead tried to shake her off . “Is it an ugly flower?”

“No,” Ken shook his head slowly, pausing. “It’s just…”

“What?”

“Well, handing someone that type of plant indicates a warning.” Ken said as he watched Autumn’s eyes widen. Youji nodded as his co-worker continued. “Those who request purple Monkshood are trying to warn you that a ‘deadly foe’ is near…”