Friends with Benefits

Hayami was not paying attention to the voice speaking to her. In fact, she was barely present in the world at all. Currently trapped in her mind she planned for a life that even she knew the likelihood of her seeing was steadily becoming less likely with every passing minute.

But then there’s the cost— She thought to herself, spiralling down the drain of possibilities that included new identities and fleeing to a nation with no extradition treaties.

And that’ll limit my possibilities. As soon as the police pick this up they can leverage a judge to freeze my assets…And then there’s the boss. He wouldn’t throw me to the sharks, right?

For a moment she thought about her father. Then the things she had said and the way he responded in kind. Her heart dropped.

She had no one to help her. Not friends, because she never had time to make them. Not family, since that bridge was either burnt or one she dared not cross. And soon, she’d have nowhere to hide as the world crumbled all around her.

I should pull out all my money now and get moving to—

“Hayami, hello?” The mark spoke beside her. “Are you listening?”

Hayami glanced up, locking her gaze on his confused smile. She eyed him, dressed in his fancy clothes while enjoying a decadent breakfast in a lavish villa. He was a prime example of blissful ignorance. Unaware of the bullet that was coming for him, whether it be from her or someone else. The idiot whose drive to be in the limelight inadvertently pulled her from the shadows.

The one who ended her life as she knew it— not with a bullet, or blade, but a hashtag.

“You’ve barely touched your scramble.” He continued.

Hayami glanced down. At some point, her breakfast had been brought for her. She had even mindlessly eaten some of it before freezing with the fork and knife in her hand.

Looking back at the mark, the grip on the cutlery tightened.

This idiot! Fury boiled her blood as flashes of how she’d like to end him popped into her mind. This is all his fault!

The tool in her right hand was only a butter knife, dull and rounded, but the fork in her left grip could do some real damage. She imagined going for the throat, getting into the carotid with a quick stab and then running before the butler could catch her.

Then again, she was angry and afraid, a dangerous combination for a professional killer like her. It made her want to be reckless and lash out like an animal. 

She thought about his constantly wagging tongue and how she’d enjoy removing it with a piece of shattered glass. Maybe even taking one of his pretty blue eyes with a spoon and keeping it as a souvenir. But of course she’d want to show it to him before she ended him.

No. No. No. I’m not some crass serial killer running off with a trophy. I need—my god, is he still talking?

That was when she remembered something.

“Hey,” She blurted out, startling her mark. “When do I get paid?”

“Oh, yes, right,” He stammered. “If it were a cheque or a transfer, it would have already been done, but to get physical money will take some time. Giles will need to arrange some things and get approval. Ten million dollars in change is a lot to manage.”

Change?! What is this idiot talking about now?

“What do you mean by change?”

“Well, the poor like their money in coins, right? And then I need to find enough cups to fit them—

His stupidity once again caused Hayami to lose control of her temper.

IDIOT!

“Idiot!” Her words were as heated as her own thoughts.

As Hayami yelled, she stabbed her knife down into the plate. The fine porcelain split into three fragmented pieces, jumping from the table before clattering back into place. This caused the mark to flinch back into his seat.

Staring daggers at him, she could see a familiar look spreading across his face. It wasn’t fear or anxiety. He had lived too much of privileged life to understand what those feelings truly meant.

No. The look that she saw was that of a confused puppy. One that had gotten its first swat. His big, dopey eyes stared at her, trying to understand what had happened.

“Hayami,” He spoke soon after. “I told you. I don’t like when you call me that.”

And I don’t like when you’re so personal with me! You’re my mark, not my friend. I don’t have friends! I don’t—I don’t need anyone! I just need to leave. I need a way out.

“Problem, sir?” The butler appeared at the table before anything more could be said.

With a flinch, Hayami looked up at the looming form. She hadn’t heard him approach. For such a large man to move so quietly and unseen in broad daylight, there was no doubt in her mind that this butler was more than he seemed.

That was her other problem.

All that the dossier had said was that the pretty boy was often accompanied by his butler, except on rare occasions—like on the train. Meaning, that if she was going to kill him, she had no choice but to do in the butler as well.

He won’t be easy…I can tell. Hayami thought, sizing the man up as the idiot continued to speak.

“Oh, nothing, Giles.” He explained, raising a hand. “Hayami went to enjoy her eggs and the plate exploded. I thought I asked you to bring the fine china?”

“Did it now?” The butler replied, turning towards her. “How unusual. Sincerest apologies, Miss Hayami. Shall I bring you another scramble?”

“No, thank you.” She answered, shifting in her chair to give him space to retrieve the shattered plate and scattered eggs. “Except, maybe, the finder’s fee for getting this one home.”

Wait! The butler’s obviously not an idiot. She realized, deciding to speak directly to the one acquiring the money.

“And, not in change, please. Bills—hundreds, preferably.”

“Of course,” He nodded, scooping up the breakfast. “It will still take some time. But the Young Master has agreed that you are more than welcome to stay here for the week it will take.”

“A week?!”

Oh, hell no! I’m not going to be playing house with this idiot for a week while the world gets a head start on hunting me.

“Please stay, Hayami!” The idiot cried out. “It’ll be so much fun to get to know you more. Plus, we can do that photoshoot I was talking about. Keep this trending train going!”

“No, that’s fine,” She rejected the offer, maintaining her gaze on the butler. “If I wanted, say, seven-point-five? Could I get that tomorrow?”

His eyes narrowed as he inspected her closely. Without a word, he turned and left with the plate fragments in hand. As he did, the thoughts again began to fill her mind. She would need to change her plans again before she could figure out her next move.

A week? Crap! Maybe—

“Oh, please! Please stay!” The mark begged of her. “It would be so great. We’ll have such a great time together. I’ve had plenty of friends over. They absolutely love to eat my food and—and partake in my tailors, and drive my cars—”

God, does he ever shut up!

And then Hayami made a mistake. In a moment of fear and anxiety, like the tiger she was, she lashed out at the one who had caged her. She bit the hand that, not only ruined her life, but also saved it.

“Shut up!” She screamed, venomous words again flowing from her mouth. “Those people obviously aren’t your friends. You’ve probably never had a real friend to begin with. They’re just using you because you’re—So! Damn! Stupid! Can’t you see they wanted everything you had because you give it away so freely? God! Wake the hell up, idiot!”

Standing from the table, Hayami stormed to the edge of the terrace. She huffed heavy breaths as she tried to find more words. More things to say to let out her frustration. To make her feel better.

“If you have so many friends, where are they? Huh? Where?” She continued, the words now flowing from her without a filter.

Leaning over the edge, she thought for only a moment before continuing to shout.

“Why weren’t they on the train with you? Huh? Why didn’t they greet you when you got home? Why didn’t they flock to you after the incident? Have they even messaged you? Or are you just getting likes and comments from adoring fans? People mooch off the rich all the time, idiot. Those people aren’t friends, they’re leeches! And you’re nothing more than the bag of flesh they want to bleed dry.”

Hayami’s words had been meant for him, but at that very moment, they cut her just as deeply. She felt everything she had said, wondering the same questions about herself. Where was her support system? With no friends or family, was she just as foolish as he was? After all, she was also alone, if not more—at least he had a butler.

That was when she heard it. A soft sound that was only audible in the moments of lull between the gusts of wind coming up from the oceanside cliff. She followed the sound, turning back towards the boy.

The mark was crying.

Not crocodile tears used to gain her sympathy, like she had seen in so many of her targets before. Nor were they of anger or happiness. For the first time in a long time, she was seeing someone cry because they were truly sad.

And then, something else happened. Something that hadn’t happened in a long time. No. Something that had never happened to her. She felt a sudden tug at her heart.

“They—” He tried to find the words between his whimpering sobs. “They were never my friends? They were only ever using me? All of them?”

“I mean…” Hayami didn’t know what to say. She was somewhere between a state of frustration and remorse. “Sounds that way?”

Then she watched as his face began to contort before more tears flowed from his eyes. Pulling the handkerchief from the suit, he wiped at his drenched cheeks and looked to her. His eyes glistened in the light as he locked with her gaze, and then said something profound. Something she had never heard in her life.

“Hayami—will you be my friend?”

Hayami froze.

Her heart fluttered as she stared at the sorrowful face. She didn’t know what to do. No one had ever asked to be her friend. In fact, most of her life had been spent alone, learning from the best tutors, training with the best masters, and killing the worst traitors. There had never been time for friends.

And now was no different, so why was she hesitating?

But then it came to her— a sudden realization.

We’re both already dead. Prisoners to a cruel, twisted fate. May as well be under house arrest together. That is, at least until I can find another way out.

“Yeah, sure.” She finally said, unsure how honest she was being with both him and herself. “I’ll be your friend…Oto.”