Carnation: The Assassin's Tears - Chapter 2

Chapter 2

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Kameira:

Ambush

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“Captain Dret,” I approached my captain, whom appeared to be in a hurry. He turned around and looked at me sternly.

“Hunter, I just got a call from New York,” He said, his lips set in a serious line.

“Sorry, Captain, but I remind you of the operation happening in a few hours,” I said respectively.

“I believe the New York robbery case is more important,” He said with a hint of apology in his gruff voice, “I couldn’t manage the operation this time.”

There was a small pause and my eyes widened. He turned around to walk away and abruptly, I cried out, “B-But, Captain, the operation—“

“You started it, Hunter,” He said, not looking back, “Usually I would trust a senior detective, like your partner, for instance,” His dark, small eyes almost seemed to glare at me as he looked over his shoulder, “But for the sake of your experience, you’re in charge of this operation. Should this fail, you are to hold responsibility for it.”

For a few minutes, I was at a loss for words, until I swallowed up my fear and said, “Captain, I am inexperienced to lead the operation.”

“That's an order, Hunter,” He demanded with audible peremptoriness.

I stood there for a moment, before nodding and saying deferentially, “Yes, Captain.”

He brushed an invisible speck of dust off his resplendent uniform and proceeded out of the precinct.

I bit my bottom lip and stared at the doors of the precinct, where Captain Dret had passed through. As I stood stationary, I slowly came to realize the precinct was deadly quiet. My brown eyes swept over the station as the detectives stared back at me.

Confusion and an unpleasant feeling of discomfort settled in my chest. My mind raced and my heart throbbed.

Just then, my investigative partner, Ian Rowell, smirked from his desk, “Well, Hunter, you’ve been delegated to take charge of this operation you’ve started. What are you going to do now?”

I stared at him for a minute or two before glancing at the clock. We had about four hours left.

“Are we calling the tactical team?” I asked and tried hard to ignore the fact everybody was listening.

“No, considering this operation isn’t based on concrete evidence,” Rowell’s smirk disappeared and he turned serious, “But we’re talking about a minimum of twenty-five officers to assist with the case. Do you have a good plan?”

.

There were four teams with six members each, all trained officers, and, of course, all older than me. Standing in front of them, my face was set into a serious expression, although I was terribly nervous.

The walls of the warehouse we were gathered in were mundane and grey, the floor was cold concrete in a deeper shade than the walls whereas the sources of light were simple light bulbs which hung dangerously from the ceiling. The situation was tense with the sour smell of perspiration and anxiety.

“Thank you all for preparing yourselves for this operation, even on such short notice,” I said, “The Captain is in New York on an urgent matter, so he is unavailable to lead the operation. For reasons even I do not know, he decided to put me, Kameira Hunter, in charge.”

I paused for a few minutes. My senior officers did not scoff or grimace as I expected them to.

“In a few minutes, each group will be given a location close to the bank. Once there, I order you all to hide and wait for my signal. Do not—and I mean,do not—slack off, even for a minute, because these criminals are fast and proficient, so we have to be quick,” I briefed, my voice hard, demanding and serious like Captain Dret, “I will be waiting at the bank alone. Although it was I whom started the idea of this rushed operation, there is a chance the bank robbery would never occur since this is all based on my prediction.”

After giving out the locations to each group, they were permitted to depart, except the officers in Group Two. I wasn’t in any group, since I was leading the whole operation.

“Alright, you could go,” Nodding briefly to the remaining officers, I headed for my bike.

“Hunter,” Rowell, who was the supervisor of Group Two, called out to me. Turning around, I studied his expression. The same, handsome features of his attractive face showed no signs of doubt in the operation, but I noticed the glint of worry in his eyes.

Very politely, I asked, “What is it?”

“You sure you’re gonna stick around the bank alone without any back-up?” Rowell asked, his lips tugging downward, “What’ll happen if we get there too late and you get shot?”

“I appreciate that you’re worried about my safety, but you think too much,” I smiled reassuringly. As I continued my walk towards my motorcycle, I said, “Besides, we both know I’m the best detective in the UC Robbery Unit. I’ll be fine, trust me.”

The engine of my motorbike roared to a start and I drove away, heading towards the bank in Olive Street in Markets. West Haley, my neighbourhood, was situated in Veronda and Markets wasn’t far from there.

Racing past the cars on the road, a rush of adrenaline pumped through my veins, stimulating my excitement. My hands were automatically driving, they turned the bike left and right-- but I wasn't actually focusing on where I went. My mind was preoccupied with excitement.

The nervousness was gone from me, despite I was still aware I was supervising a crucial operation. However, knowing my officers would not be around until I called for them assured me. I was the type who enjoyed taking matters into my own hands—although I was slightly inexperienced, I could apprehend the criminals before my back-up arrived. To me, if they interfered, the whole operation would go haywire.

As I inhaled deeply, my tongue slipped out to lick my dry lips. Thanks to Seraphine, this was finally happening.

She is a very good predictor. When it comes to guessing and predicting, she never goes wrong—and this is one of the factors of why Seraphine's such a good assassin. Of course, my fellow officers don’t know it was her who predicted the robbery.

Upon arriving, I parked my bike in the shadows, concealing it from view, and checked my 9-mm. gun. When all this was done, I leaned against the head of my bike, watching the building for anyone suspicious.

It was surprising to see they hired a seventy-year-old man to fulfill the job of a security guard at the bank. The senior soon fell asleep, probably drowsed by the comfortable, air-conditioned room, and seeing this antagonized me. Despite having a shotgun strapped to his back, he looked completely harmless, sleeping like a log.

The bank was closed—the only part of the building left open was the ATM machines, so that ruled out the possibility of any fatalities once the guard is excluded.

The area was especially creepy at night—the darkness completely hid the surrounding buildings and outlets, making the bank the first sight of anyone passing by, as it was brightly lit. Outside, the only source of light was the dim moonlight—with no clouds hanging in the night sky, the trees shimmered beautifully in the shadows, but not even that could disguise the eerie silence shrouding the area.

The wind blew, sending a shudder down my spine. The atmosphere frightened me-- it was as though I was completely vulnerable to anything which lurked in the shadows.

In an effort to distract myself from the scary situation, my thoughts shifted to my strategy. I pondered, should I enter the building firsthand and pretend I was taking out some money? Wait, no. The robbers would back away if they see someone wearing a vest which had the words ‘POLICE’ imprinted on it, not to mention I would be completely vulnerable if they choose to shoot me from the shadows.

My following tactics were quickly dismissed.

“I should’ve came up with a plan yesterday,” I hissed, returning my attention to the bank. When Rowell asked me whether I had a plan, I lied straight in his face. Everything went down to fast for me to think of a strategy.

A few minutes later, a car pulled up in the distance and its dim headlights turned off. My heart throbbed and my excitement piled up as I stared with vain into the darkness. The mysterious car was parked too far off for me to hear anybody exiting, whereas it was too dark for me to see anything.

Narrowing my eyes, I observed the darkness for a while longer until I saw it—something shifted in the shadows. Excitement turned into alarm when I noticed the movement was dangerously close to the bank, so I sat up straight and slowly withdrew my gun.

Seconds later, two figures, covered from head to toe in black clothing, emerged from the shadows. Dismounting my bike, I quietly gave succinct orders to the teams nearby through the radio and moved cautiously towards the bank.

Once I exited the shadows, the faint light kissed my skin and unveiled me from the darkness. With a professional instinct, I walked as slowly and as soundlessly as possible, listening to the quiet crunch emitted when my boots pressed against the gravel. My breath was steady although my pulse was rapid, and my finger twitched on the trigger.

One of them fired at the glass, shattering it as a result and startling the security guard from his sleep in the process. Adroitly, the criminal held his gun to the senior’s head and snatched the shotgun away, before he tossed it to his accomplice.

His partner-in-crime caught it skilfully, aimed for one of the ATM machines and fired three times, each shot followed by a terrifying sound as they destroyed the machine. The man threw the shotgun away and it noisily fell to the marble floor.

After cracking the ATM machine open, he put money into the bag. I resumed my cautious approach.

The taller one, who was watching the senior, saw and quickly changed his aim. Before he could pull the trigger, I took cover and missed the series of speeding bullets, which were expected from a sub-machine gun like his. Then, I stepped out of my hiding and held my gun firmly.

Time stopped as I closed my left eye, focusing completely with my right one. Everything around me became blurry and my target became as clear as a picture, right in my line of sight. This happened because I've entered the 'zone', something usual after years of practice with shooting. My excitement ceased, my shoulders relaxed and my arms and hands tensed.

The bullet hit the handle of my opponent’s gun, causing it to fly out from his grasp. He froze, stunned by my deadly aim, giving an opening for me to take him out. I rushed towards him and landed a strong punch on his jaw, before striking him quickly at the back of his neck.

His eyes rolled back and he dropped to the floor, unconscious, due to my attack. The petrified senior, watching these events with fear, saw his chance and fled the scene, disappearing into the darkness.

My eyes shifted to the other robber and I held my gun in his direction. “Why not you do me a favour and drop the gun?”

The man didn’t speak, instead he shook his head apprehensively and gestured his friend, who was out cold from my blow. I knew what he meant—he wanted his partner safe.

“This guy is going to be fine, but that ultimately depends on you,” I told him. Apparently, the criminal in front of me took my gentle reply as a threat, and straightened his arm, looking as ready as ever to shoot me. I also took note his hand was trembling—as though he was afraid.

We all know my objective wasn’t to threaten him. It was just a start for me to negotiate.

“Alright, I get that you care for him,” I observed, attempting to start a negotiation, “If you drop your gun and come with me, nobody gets hurt and everything will be fine.”

The robber hesitated and I could see worry within his dark eyes. It was then I realized he wasn’t looking at me—he glanced outside the bank. The criminal did not say anything, and I could tell his anxiety from the darker spots underneath his armpits from perspiration. Too engrossed in observing him, I failed to noticed a shuffling sound beneath me.

A few minutes later, I heard it--a clicking sound from behind me—from the direction of where the criminal stared at. My eyes narrowed and my head tilted; I knew what kind of sound that was…it was the sound of someone inserting a bullet into his…

My eyes widened as I quickly looked over my shoulder. ‘Shit!’

Somebody fired—I froze, completely vulnerable to the incoming bullet, but someone pulled me down at that instant. Not to my knowledge, the defeated criminal at my feet regained consciousness and pulled me down to the ground. The bullet missed me and planted itself in one of the ATM machines.

I turned around to stare wide-eyed at the dark, from where the mysterious bullet came from. It was then another shot was fired—only this time it seemed to have come from a different gun, thus I concluded it also came from a different person. The metal projectile missed its unknown target and sparked when it came in contact with the road.

A third bullet was shot and shattered the windshield of a nearby car. Quickly, I noticed the change of angle from where the third bullet came from, so it must have been, again, from the same person who shot the second bullet. This person was probably on a higher floor.

Suddenly, I detected movement in the shadows. The person lurking there moved quickly, his shoes crunching loudly against the road, as he ran away for some reason. The sound of his footsteps trailed off.

After a few minutes, the situation became quiet and silence fell upon us. Nobody moved as the events which took place overwhelmed us with confusion. The atmosphere tensed.

I was puzzled—neither of the UC Bandits fired at me, since the bullet came from the shadows, and not only that, a fourth person witnessed the third person attempt to kill me, thus leading to the powerful shot which was similar to that of a silenced sniper rifle.

My brown eyes were soon locked in gaze with the robber whom pulled me down. I didn’t understand—if whoever attempted to kill me was one of them, why did the first criminal look so frightened? Why did this second one to pull me down so the bullet would miss me?

“I d-don’t…” Amid the puzzlement, I was unable to sputter anymore. My eyes were locked in a gaze with the violet orbs of the robber in front of me-- the same man I took down. His eyes were pretty-- they were sharp and deep purple.

The criminal did not reply to my stammer, just as stunned as I was. However, when it seemed he was going to utter a word, I felt a gun to the back of my head. The robber who ‘saved’ me adroitly snatched my gun from my hand and got up.

He accepted the bag his friend offered. They took advantage of my confusion and swiftly ran off into the darkness to get to their vehicle.

“D-Damn!” I cursed myself and picked up the shotgun. The criminals were so fast—by the time I exited the bank, stepping on the broken bits of glass with my boots—the robbers had already started the engine of their car.

I dashed towards my bike. The screeching sound of the wheel broke the silence of the night as I twisted the pedal to pursue the burglars, whom were already speeding off. The UC Bandits drove without any lights on, so their dark vehicle quickly blended in with the pitch-black night. I raced in their direction, detecting the sound of their wheels from time to time.

Eventually, I seemed to have lost them.

My motorcycle halted when I reached a dark, lonely junction with nothing but a single streetlamp as a source of light. My hazel eyes darted from side to side—still, the place remained quiet.

When I lowered my weapon, a car appeared from the left side of the junction. Its headlights suddenly flashed on; the engine roared; the wheels made a high-pitched screeching sound as the driver slammed on the pedal.

The air quickly filled up with the stench of burning rubber and the lights glared at me. With the objective of arresting them firm in my mind, I entered the 'zone' as they raced towards me. Dividing my energy equally to my arms and legs, my aim was precise.

I pulled the trigger and the windshield shattered. I watched the vehicle lose control—it swayed violently, dashing past me before it came close to colliding with a tree. However, the criminal regained control of the car.

Dismounting my bike, I shot and walked towards the direction of the car that was unsteadily driving away. I pumped the gun again and fired another shot—repeating this four times (for there were only four rounds left in the shotgun) until the vehicle finally disappeared in distance.

Disappointment overwhelmed me and I dropped the shotgun. Questions flooded my mind.

What happened? I was accustomed to perpetrators aiming guns to my head. Dawn had taught me how to disarm the person in those situations.

Why did I pause? Was it because too many thoughts were going through my head? Or maybe it was because the criminals were too quick for me? Or did the beautiful purple eyes of one of the robbers distract me?

As I wondered about my back-up, my hands fumbled around my belt, looking for my radio, before groaning after realizing it fell off at some point. I released a heavy sigh and looked around—it was dark, creepy and depressing.

Inadvertently, I had followed the robbers into another part of Veronda and did not recognize where I was. Although the days were bright and peaceful, the nights in Uriah City were warm, long and lonely.

I stared up at the sky to see the stars. My lips curved into a small smile.

Suddenly, I felt a presence behind me. Despite being aware of it, I did not turn around—instead, I pretended to not know. Breathing in, I braced myself for any attack.

Whoever was approaching me had the traits of a silent and swift criminal. Soundless footsteps, quick, light breaths, the creepy aura emitted as he stares his victim down-- my disappointment drained and quickly became sensitive to whatever was behind me. I knew I was about to face a professional.

When the presence was close enough, my hand balled into a fist and my feet spread slightly wider so I could get a steady base. In a split second, I turned around and threw a strong punch to whoever it was behind me, moving as fast as lightning.

However, my gush of adrenaline was abruptly-- and unexpectedly-- stopped when my fist got caught in someone else’s firm grasp.

To my surprise, Seraphine was standing behind me.

“Whoa! Relax, Mei, it’s just me,” Her green eyes were wide, surprised she was suddenly confronted with a punch from her own sister.

Her incredibly quick reflexes had saved her from a broken jaw. As I processed the information, she relaxed her terrifyingly strong grip on my fist. I was quickly reminded how strong Seraphine could physically be.

“Sera, what are you doing here?” I blinked, lowering my arm. My sister gave me a smile and I examined her clothes. She was in her dark-red armor outfit—the clothes she wore whenever she went out assassinating, “Why are you wearing that?”

“I’ll tell you when we get home,” She said nervously and scratched the back of her head. I noticed there was quite an amount of blood on her left hand.

“You have to leave, my backup would be here any second,” I told her, looking around, “There’s nobody at the moment—go, Sera. I’ll see you later.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll relate this whole thing at home,” My sister acquiesced and ran off into the shadows.

Very soon, police cars surrounded the area and the officers rushed towards me with worry on their faces. Rowell offered me his coat, wrapped me in it and escorted me to the police car. By the time I sat down at the back seat, a few officers concerned for my safety crowded me.

“What happened?” I demanded.

Seconds, which felt like minutes, passed by and none of them replied. I felt so frustrated and angry that I wanted to throw punches and break necks. The operation had failed. The reality of it was harsh.

“We could’ve caught the damned suspects if you hadn’t been so slow!” I snapped angrily, scowling at the officers. Some of them looked embarrassed; some were apologetic, whereas one or two grimaced as though they blamed me for the failure of the operation.

I gritted my teeth, before releasing a heavy and disappointed sigh, “I know I do not have the authority to get angry at my senior police officers, but I’m sure Captain Dret wouldn’t be happy, either.”

Being a very young woman—only aged twenty-one (for I turn twenty-two years old in October), I was the youngest in the precinct. However, after working with the law enforcement for a year, since last January, I’ve become well-respected for respecting others and proving to be a good rookie.

“Hunter, you aren’t the one at fault,” Rowell said softly, representing the squad. His rough exterior had been broken down by the sight of my disappointment and his eyebrows drew together with worry. I always knew my single partner had a small crush on me.

Tired, I nodded slightly.

We all returned to the Fifteenth Precinct in Walter Square, Main Uriah, along with the surveillance footage of the recently robbed bank. Before letting the officers watch the tape, I analyzed the footage in private first. I was right—the criminal with lilac eyes pulled me down and it was because of him, I missed the mysterious bullet.

A thousand thoughts ran through my head—did he pull me down in an attempt to slow me down and give his partner a chance to get the money, but instead ‘accidentally’ made me miss the bullet? Or did he intentionally pull me down to save my life?

These questions lingered in my mind, along with the mysterious bullet and the sniper rifle shot. Who was lurking in the shadows? Why did he try to shoot me? Who fired the sniper rifle? Why is it that the sniper rifle’s deadly bullets weren’t meant for me? Why did I not notice the stranger in the darkness whereas the robber did? Why did the other burglar pull me down when the bullet was fired?

Time flew fast and I was already approaching the doors of my home. Kicked off my boots and I trudged into the kitchen, only to find Seraphine standing by the counter, holding two cups—and one of them contained black coffee, my favourite. Her brown hair was dripping wet—I assumed she took a bath.

“Hi,” My sister gave me one of the cups. I accepted it and she smiled, walking past me, “Take a rest, Mei, I know it’s been very tense for you. I’ll go dry my hair, and then we’ll talk.”

My strong dismay instantly vanished and I sighed in relief after taking a sip. Seraphine always knew how to cheer me up.

Soon, we sat at the sofa in the living room, enjoying the drink my older sister prepared. The television was set to low volume and the aroma of our drinks filled my nostrils. The house was pristine and tidy as always, thanks to Seraphine whom cleaned it up.

My sister released a small hum of satisfaction before she spoke softly, “You’re probably addled right now, right?”

"Huh?" I didn't hear her.

“You’re confused, aren’t you?” She giggled, and a smile played across my face. My reaction to her mirth answered her question and she confessed hesitatingly, “Well, Mei, the truth is…I was around during the ambush earlier.”

Initially, I thought I heard her wrongly. “What?”

“The robbery was reported having a ‘probable third person’, right?” She asked. I nodded, but suddenly felt stupid. Throughout the whole operation, I completely forgot about the third suspect. If I had remembered, the operation would have gone differently and would'nt have ended up in failure.

As I dealt with my stupidity, she explained further, “I have concluded the ‘third person’ to be my target, whom is Darren, the child killer.”

Despite being surprised, I was dumbfounded with myself. She continued, “I was actually on the second floor of a nearby building—you couldn’t see me because it was too dark—and chose a silenced sniper rifle as my testing weapon. Actually, I knew Darren was hiding in the shadows, but I didn’t know his exact position and he usually appears by the end of each robbery, so I decided to wait until then. I watched you try to negotiate—which was really adept of you, by the way—but I was startled when Darren attempted to kill you.”

At this point, she shrugged, “You know me, Mei. My actions are controlled by my emotions. I was so angry he tried to shoot you, I fired two shots at the shadows with my sniper rifle.”

“I see,” I nodded slowly before snapping my fingers, “What happened to Darren? After all the commotion, I heard him escape.”

“He got away,” Seraphine sighed, “When he left the scene, I chased after him—well, followed thesounds of his footsteps, to be more precise—and shot aimlessly with my handgun. He fired a shot as well, but the bullet hit my armor. I actually caught up with him and stabbed him with my dagger, but he still managed slip away.”

Oh, that explains the blood on her hand. I fell silent for a while, “Seriously, why do you wear armor instead of a bulletproof vest? Isn’t the armor somewhat troublesome, since it's strapped on? It could fall off at any second, wouldn't it?”

“I always make sure it's strapped on really tightly, and besides, it protects the whole of my torso,” She said with a grin, “Besides, the metal is one of a kind and impenetrable, it couldn't be replaced by some bulletproof vest.”

I shrugged her counterattack off. Seraphine was right—the armor she wore was hand-made by the same person who carved her own dagger. The breastplate was very hard to penetrate—sometimes bullets literally bounced off of it.

Suddenly, my sister pushed herself off the sofa and headed towards her laptop. She turned it on and went to a secured website, where she checked money in her bank account. I wondered why she was doing this so suddenly—but I did not think about it for long.

“Remember my last client?” She spoke finally.

“You mean the rich company owner who hired you to kill his wife?” I replied and received a nod, “Of course. What about him?”

“He hasn’t paid yet,” Her originally cheerful state had transformed into a serious one, “He told me his wife was beating their daughter without his knowledge. Not only did their daughter pass away after being beaten to death, the police refused to make the wife a suspect although she was the last to be seen with her.”

I was silent for a while. “So…did the mother kill the daughter?”

“Yeah, from my own investigation, she did it in a fit of rage,” Seraphine said, “That bitch was easily killed during testing. I just shot her from afar with the sniper rifle and that was that.”

“During testing?” I repeated, surprised, “She didn’t have any guards or anything?” My sister shook her head and I continued, “That means the fee is pretty low…it’s been a month, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Yeah, and you do know what happens to clients who fail to pay my fee within a month after the assassination, right?” A smirk played across her face.

“Yes, if they don’t pay the price, they pay with their lives.”

.

At 7 am, a text message from Captain Dret came in. He told me to take a day off to recover from the stress before informing me of other things. Rowell had enlightened him about the operation.

Captain Dret informed me the robbers failed to steal all the money but only went away with one tenths of what all the ATM machines had. I read this without zeal; the robbers managed to get away anyway, so the amount of money they stole didn't mean anything to me.

Other than that, amid the empty bullet cartridges of the robber’s M5, my 9-mm. and the shotgun, the team found a single, foreign cartridge belonging to a 38-caliber. This was the same gun used by Darren, and since Seraphine enlightened me last night, I wasn’t confused.

Naturally, my officers were confused, and that wasn’t the only thing puzzling them.

They found a trail of empty bullet cartridges down an alley (where Seraphine chased Darren) and two foreign cartridges (in my opinion, these were belonging to the sniper rifle). It struck me as strange that they did not find Darren’s blood in the alley. I assumed there was supposed to be blood, considering he was stabbed once by my sister.

I looked out my window and noticed the atmosphere outside was damp. It had rained overnight, so the blood probably washed away.

Seraphine left the house in the evening and told me she’d be back after midnight. Fifteen minutes after she left, I took a bath and changed before locking the doors of my home. I mounted my bicycle and arrived at the park in a few minutes.

After jogging a few rounds, I slowed down, tired. My failure to catch the burglars haunted me for the whole day and the disappointment and shame wouldn't leave me. I ran my fingers through my short hair and released an indistinct sigh as my dark brown eyes fell downcast.

I trudged around the park for a few minutes, kicking a pebble which blocked my road occasionally. My mind moved on and pondered on Seraphine’s current actions—until I found myself musing about the violet eyes of the criminal.

‘Why are those orbs so mesmerizing?’ I angrily thought to myself, slapping my palm onto my forehead,‘Mei, you can do this, just take a deep breath…’

Then, a polite and soft ‘excuse me’ solicited my attention.

I opened my eyes and glanced over my shoulder. Standing behind me was a man about five-foot-nine—which was my height—with dark hair and light brown eyes. Because of his common and dull features (not to mention he was my height), my first thought of his appearance was boring and unappealing.

“Forgive me for being silly, but your hair caught my attention,” He stammered, looking away, deliberately avoiding eye contact. I could tell he was hesitant as he continued to sputter, “Ah, I was just wondering…”

I raised an eyebrow. Was he trying to ask me out? Because if he was, it was a very pathetic attempt, not to mention I wasn’t in the mood for a date.

After some seconds, the stranger finally managed to stutter, “I know this is a stupid question to ask, but, what’s the colour of your hair?”

An awkward silence fell upon us.

My look of boredom changed into a puzzled expression. Out of all the questions to ask a complete stranger, why ask the colour of her hair?I wasn’t sure if this man was colour-blind, but I was still a bit addled at the moment.

Noticing the odd situation, the dark-haired man attempted to explain, “N-No, it’s just, when I first saw you, I thought your hair was light brown, but then, when I was walking by I noticed it was a bit reddish and--”

His sentence faded and I soon recovered from my confusion. My lips curved into a slight smile and a small chuckle escaped my lips, but my reaction only humiliated the stranger even more.

“Ah, sorry,” I apologized when I saw his embarrassed frown. I ran my fingers through my hair and slowly clarified, “Well, my hair is actually orange, but it’s the brownish-orange shade, so many mistaken it for light brown. Although some call it dark orange or ginger, if not brown or dark blonde, it’s actually not. But, to make things less complicated, my sister calls it copper.”

The stranger nodded slowly as he absorbed my words. He then glanced at his wristwatch before looking up, smiling at me, “Thanks for your answer. Not many people would respond to my stupid questions.”

“It was nothing,” I smiled back. He waved briefly and walked away.

I narrowed my eyes in thought. What would Seraphine be doing until she would not be back home until after midnight? This meant I would be lonely and bored when I reach home, and, unlike my older sister, whom likes her privacy, I am a garrulous person.

“W-Wait!” I called out and took a step forward. My sudden cry caught the attention of the raven-haired man and he looked over his shoulder. I smiled nervously, “I’m going to a nearby café in a few minutes. If you’re free for the rest of the day, would you like to join me?”

Evidently, he was surprised by my abrupt invitation. However, his hesitation did not last long and he said, “Yeah, I’m free.”

He approached me and extended an arm. I accepted it and we both shook hands before he introduced himself, “I’m Gerard Kolten. It’s a pleasure meeting you.”

“I’m Kameira Hunter,” I uttered before allowing a slight smile, “And thank you, it’s nice to have some company.” He simply chuckled when he heard my sentence.

It was then I subconsciously noted how attractive he really was.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks to SushiSashimi333 for helping me with this chapter. I've tried my best to work on some parts, except the characterization of the Hunter sisters'. Maybe their characters will be revealed bit by bit with each chapter.

I also fixed the minor errors thanks to Ethaniel.

Thank you for reading! :D