[—Entry 5 – The Whispering Cat of Death —]
[Note from the Desk of the Director's Director]: H̶i̴ ̸h̵i̵!̶~̷ ̷D̵a̵r̶l̶i̸n̷g̸ ̵s̷a̶i̴d̶ ̵y̵o̸u̵ ̸a̸l̶l̵ ̵w̴a̶n̸t̵e̸d̵ ̴t̷o̸ ̷r̴e̵a̸d̶ ̴a̸b̷o̸u̶t̷ ̸a̶ ̷s̴t̶o̷r̴y̸ ̵f̵r̷o̴m̶ ̸m̷y̶ ̵t̵i̵m̷e̷ ̵i̷n̷ ̷t̷h̵e̴ ̷I̷s̶h̶i̸z̷u̴k̶i̶ ̶C̴l̴a̷n̵.̵ ̸T̶h̸e̸ ̸A̸r̷c̸h̵i̸v̴i̷s̸t̸ ̷w̷i̸l̵l̴ ̴b̷e̷ ̶p̵u̴l̸l̶i̴n̸g̷ ̴i̸t̴ ̴f̷r̶o̵m̶ ̶m̴y̵ ̷m̴e̸m̶o̵r̶y̶ ̴u̵s̵i̴n̶g̶ ̵t̸h̸e̶ ̷s̵a̶m̶e̷ ̴d̴e̶v̷i̷c̵e̴ ̶w̶e̸ ̵u̷s̴e̸d̷ ̵f̵o̴r̶ ̶D̸a̴r̴l̸i̴n̸g̸'̷s̷ ̶M̷e̶m̸o̴r̴i̴e̵s̷.̷ ̶S̸o̴,̶ ̶i̸t̴'̶s̸ ̵f̴r̴o̴m̴ ̵w̶a̸y̵y̸y̴y̸ ̸b̵e̴f̶o̴r̸e̸ ̷I̵ ̵m̷e̴t̸ ̵y̸o̸u̵ ̴a̸l̴l̴ ̶o̸r̷ ̴m̷y̸ ̴d̴a̶r̶l̴i̸n̶g̷ ̸h̶u̸s̵b̷a̸n̵d̶.̵ ̸D̶a̶r̷l̶i̵n̸g̶ ̴a̴n̸d̷ ̸I̸ ̸h̸o̷p̷e̷ ̵y̸o̴u̷ ̷e̶n̶j̶o̸y̵ ̵i̴t̶.̸ ̶~̸ ̵
[Scope of Research]: To explain where the Director's Director nickname comes from, and expound upon what the Director's Director got up to before ascension by the Evil Kami who revived her as she rose through the ranks of the Yakuza clan that killed her father, so that she would taste revenge. Even if it meant that revenge was in death.
[Note: This has been parsed from Yuki's subconscious, so corruption has been equalized]
“So, you're the new recruit, huh? That bitch mother of yours owes quite a bit to us, you willing to work that off?” the jack-footed Yakuza barked as I was thrown into the room. I took him for the boss of the operation immediately, as he was flanked by two equally, but not as nicely dressed Yakuza in black suits. As I surveyed the tatami mat room we were in, I raised my head to meet Ishizuki Kure, head of the Ishizuki Clan – who ran Shibuya with a gloved fist and cloaked daggers. “You say that like I have a chance, Ishizuki-dono.” I said, feigning respect as I bowed to the filthy scoundrel who'd ordered the hit on my father 18 years ago. He scoffed at me, before kneeling to meet my dogeza bow, lifting my chin with his greasy fingers and saying “Hmm, Mirahiru Yuki huh? I like a woman who knows her place in the world. You really do have Shirou's eyes, it seems. Yuzuhi, teach this debtor's housecat what she needs to know.“he waved his hand to signal for Sakutaro Yuzuhi, a dark-haired woman who wore a beautiful kimono which accentuated her flowing hair which sat at the middle of her back. “Yes, Ishizuki-dono. Mirahiru-nyan? Follow me.” she said finally, her words a honeyed threat which bade me to follow her.
That...was my first experience with a blade. Sakutaro placed a longer than average katana into my young hands, the gold engraved into the same, my initials etched into the habaki, and the image of a Shinigami down the length of the saya. It felt...natural. Like my own arms had been crying out for a weapon half as beautiful as this one. “Hmm, seems like you're a fit for your father's blade. This will make things easier. So, Mirahiru-chan...this..” she continued, explaining how best to drain the blood from a victim, how to make it look like a paper cut, various poisons....it continued for quite some time..
Finally having left Yuzuhi-nee's apartment where I'd been living to train myself at the Ishizuki's basement dojo in the mornings, for the last two years. I got my first assignment. I was to meet on a “date” with Ishizuki Koro, Boss' first born son who had ratted out one of our facilities to the police and gotten it shut down. “Oh, I've made you wait!” I said, doing my best to lather my words with an intentional naivety that I knew the spawn of the man who killed my father for “debts to the family” would fall for. “Oh not at all, I've just arrived. How are you Mirahuru-tan?” Koro said, despite looking down at the blade I had at my hip. “Just fine, Koro-san. I..I just hope I'm not too homely for your taste.” I said, implying I was going anywhere but home after our first meeting at the sad excuse for a karaoke bar he'd invited me to.
“Oh...not at all, Mirahiru-tan. Say, why don't we go in?” he said, in the same sleezy, breathy voice his father had. As we entered our booth, I instinctively checked the air with my tail, making sure it remained concealed under my skirt as it brushed against surfaces and checked for soundproofing. As the door slid behind us, I heard him sit upon the seat and noticed no one would hear us. I'd bribed the manager as he went to used the toilet before coming to the counter, and the cameras had been turned off.
Soundlessly, I approached Koro...and soundlessly, I whispered in his ears, “Your father sends his regards, to the whore who birthed you.” as I lifted a black painted tanto knife from my breast pocket and pricked Koro in the back so as to drain the spinal fluid from him, rendering him immobile. And then, just as soundlessly, I slashed at his neck, shaking once I'd finally completed my work. I acted tough, but inside? Inside I had flashes of the gruesome murder of my father, somehow deep inside I called myself a monster. But, deeper still inside of my heart? A new rush came flowing through. “I'm...pretty good at this, huh?” My heart responded, telling me I needed to dispose of him...somehow. Thus, I...cut him into bite sized pieces and...carried him out of the bar in my purse. No one cared enough to find him, so my job was completed. As I continued to rack up hits, I slowly advanced up the ranks..I became known as The Whispering Cat of Death. This is because as I killed my victims, I felt it best to Whisper sweet nothings so as to ease their suffering and despair, however slightly. I truly never meant to kill, but I did what I had to...to avenge my father. I'm not entirely sure how people found out I was a Nekomata, but I suspect it had to do with the way I wrote out my callsign – which thinking back, was a kitten's paw. I thought it looked cute, and never thought it would become my signature – as The Whispering Cat of Death. [Memory end] THANK YOU FOR READING TONIGHT'S REPORT!~ [—Report 05 completed, Training completed.—]