Expresso machines were tricky things, even for a boy-genius like Hanami Jiman. The young man stood in the breakroom of his father's office building, ashen Jean-Paul Gaultier suit immaculate, red tie with black skulls and crossbones printed all over it a little loose around his neck. He was the picture perfect businessman; except he was too young, his hair was too shaggy (called 'bed head' in America, where he'd recently come from), and his socks matched his tie.

But then again, he was only sixteen.

"Fuck, who buys an expresso machine? Regular old coffee is just fine, but noooooo, someone's gotta be complicated! God fucking forbid you jackasses don't get your fancy expresso..." He grumbled to no one in particular; venting his frustration by shaking the machine. "Give me coffee!"

Nevermind that there was a Starbucks across the street of the building.

Click. Click. Click.

THAT, my friend, was the sound of angry designer heels storming down the hallway. And who was attatched to those angry, angry shoes?

Aware-chan! That's who!

A N G E R!!! The words were all but emblazoned in a pissed off thought bubble toiling and brewing abover her rainbow colored head. Hello door! Fuckin' slam!! "JIMAN." The girl roared. "ZOMG WE HAVE A PROBLEM."

The girl's twin jumped into the air at the slam of the door, fumbling his expresso cup in his hands. "Holy shit, Aware!! Why don't you slam the door a little harder?" He set the cup down and made a face. "Hell yeah we have a problem! I can't get this expesso machine to work! If I don't get my fucking caffeine someone's gonna die!"

Stare. "...I just saw, like, the worst thing ever and you're going on about your MOTHERFUCKING SELF-IMPOSED ADDICTION TO EXPRESSO!?!?!?!!?" Balk. Shock. Apalled. All words that were, like, so pointing to Aware like right this second. Her shoes were colored disillusioned and her blouse was akin to the flavor of a freshly opened can of DESIGNER WHUPASS. Or, like, something. "Do you KNOW what I just walked in on dad doing?!"

What was the worse thing ever? In this family that could mean a lot! Jiman pondered this, yet took a moment of time to correct, "Dude, get it right! It's caffeine! Not expresso exclusively..." And then he quirked a brow, ever more low-key than his sister. "What was dad doing? What's worse than collecting fingertips? Shooting some guy between the eyes?" He feigned a yawn, as if that wouldn't phase him.

"Making out with the motherfucking babysitter!!!!!! Who's only nineteen and was wearing the cutest miniskirt and-- OMG FUCK FUCK FUCKFUCKFUCK." Temper tantrum? Check. The light haired girl paced the room frantically. "It's like he's cheating on mom with one of our classmates or something!! Except worse!! And I accused her of having herpes and she didn't correct me, which means she probably does!!!!!"

Jiman was silent for a moment, his face a mask of apathy as he stared at his sister. After a few seconds, his lips twitched, finally curling into a crazed smile as he started to laugh. Just fucking laugh it off, Jiman! "Oh shit! Oh shit oh shit oh shit hahahahaHAHAHAHAHA... What the FUCK!? That's so... HAHAhaha... So f-fucking--" He covered his mouth to lower his snickers, "Well, there goes my chance with marrying the rich girl..." -He was joking, and it was probably the wrong time to do so, but it was these kinds of things that Jiman specialized in; even if he was completely disgusted with the actual thought of his father fucking someone in his age range.

"One more joke, Jiji, and I'm going to rip out your skanky attempted-side-part completely EMOWANKTASTIC hair that looks like it belongs on an extra in a Dashboard video RIGHT out of your follicles and you're going to be bald for a motherfucking year!!" Was Aware scary when pissed off? Perhaps. Just a little. "MotherFUCKit, I need a valium. Or some coke. Or. ARGH! Drugs." Simmer, simmer, boil. It was an on and off switch with the girl. Must've been all the peroxide fumes from constantly bleaching her hair out.

"Okay, okay! CHILL OUT! Goddamn..." Jiman reached a hand up to pat his hair reassuringly. "--And fuck Dashboard, they're too mainstream for me..." He frowned, approaching his sister and placing an arm around her shoulders. "Anyway... calm down... we can't come up with any kind of plan if you're all PMSing before it's your time, and shit..." He paused, lifting an eyebrow, "Um... assuming a plan is what you had in mind?"

"Well, we have to do something. I can't have, like, this sort of information and then do, like, nothing. Maybe we should tell mom so she'll stop being such a cunt to daddy." A flatlined frown, a pout, chewing on the inside of her cheek. Maybe some xanax would work. Hm. No! Not drugs! Plan! Put your disgusting lack of anger management to WORK FOR YOU, Aware!!

"Tell Mom?" Jiman made a face, then glanced behind them, towards the door leading in to the breakroom to make sure no one was around. "Hmm... I don't know about that. If they got divorced, then we'd be screwed. -And Maru will be even more screwed, 'cause kids always go with their mother. I'll be damned if Mom takes her away from us. -Not that we couldn't rule the world without her... We'd just do it more efficiently if she were helping."

"Well, we just have to present this as a business deal. Mom wants to keep the family together, right? And the main antagonizer here is mom being a bitch and not talking to dad and making him sleep on the couch when she's actually home from visiting gramma and granpa." A slow nod. "So if we present this situation in facts... I can make a powerpoint presentation... and we can fashion projected outcomes..."

"Are you serious? She's going to freak out if we tell her dad's screwing around. -It'll just add to the animosity. Not to mention Dad'll kill us if we provoke Mom into leaving him permanently. Right now there is a chance of reconciliation. It is, however, pretty gross that Dad's fucking with the babysitter. If anything, we need to present to him a way to win Mom's affections back. -Not to mention we need to fire Aiko's ass. She'll probably stab him in the back anyway. Her own father didn't just up and croak, now did he?" Jiman released his sister from his arm's grasp, looking out the door once more.

"Well think about it!! It is all her fault! She knew daddy was yakuza before she married him and she knew the risks involved! Apparently, the profit margins were worth the death threats! Like, duh!" Aware coughed. "But. Hmm. Well, let's think. What sort of heinous deeds would mom require of dad to win her heart back. Option one: Leaving the yakuza. Impossibility, considering the nature of yakuza. Option two: Bring back Miyagi. Impossibility, since I don't have powers of necromancy. Option three: Uh. Puppies?"

Jiman snickered, closing the breakroom door. "Ah... I don't know about puppies.. but you're close. If they ever really loved each other, then he's going to have to pull some of that romantic bullshit out of his ass. Take her own, give her flowers... I bet if he CRIED he'd win her back! How hard is it to cry? It's all about the acting..." The boy paused, crossing his arms and tapping his chin. "Hm... I think the probability of Dad crying is about as slim as pigs flying, though..."

"Yeah... I kinda don't wanna freeze hell over by doing this, yanno?" Aware tapped her chin. "We could just kill her." An offhand comment. The strange thing was that the girl felt nothing when the thought filtered through her mind.

"Who? Aiko? But she's so hot..." Jiman wrinkled his nose. "It's a waste of genes. She'd pop out some beautiful, fucking rich kids."

"I mean mom, you emo wanker! And she's not hot! She's fucking dad! So she's, like, asexual in my mind. Blocking. That. Out." Aware made a funny hand motion that apparently meant something akin to the whole blocking that shit the fuck out. "Or we could present her with a life or death ultimatum."

Quirking a brow, Jiman gave Aware an 'are you serious' look. "You want to kill Mom? Goddamn, who's next? Dad? Maru? Me? That should be the absolute last resort, don't you think? We should at least talk to her first." He snorted, "What is this, a fucking soap opera?"

Snide little sneer from pretty MAC lips. "I'm not the one who's fucking the babysitter." A roll of eyes in their soft, pink decorated sockets. "Look. I suggested we present this fairly and cleanly. But nooooo. You always ruin my best powerpoint ideas!!"

"Well EXCUSE ME if I don't think Powerpoint is going to solve this one!" Jiman rolled his eyes, going back over to the stupid expresso machine and hitting it, "Give me my expresso you piece of shit machine!" Growl. Who said emo kids couldn't get mad? "My sister wants to kill my Mom and I can't even get a goddamned expresso! -What I really need is some hard liquor." He moved away from the machine, going through the various cabinets, searching. "And you do know that if we even presented such an idea to Dad, he'd probably have a fit.."

"Powerpoint solves everything, dumbshit." Roughly, the girl opened up her Versace purse and yanked out a flask. "Here. Don't say I never damaged your liver. And I never said we'd tell dad if we knocked her off."

"Pfft, you think he won't find out? Did you forget who he is?" Jiman walked briskly towards his sister, snatching the flask away from her and opening it up, taking a long swig. "Even if he didn't, he'd blame it on his enemies, and an unnecessary war might be started."

"Like, hello? Think about how much access we have. It'd be the easiest thing in the world for a couple kid geniuses like us to figure out how to make it a suicide. If Japaris Fujihilton the babysitter can do it, then so can we."

***

stats.
job description :: heir to the sumiyoshi-kai
affiliation :: sumiyoshi-kai
height :: 5'8"
weight :: 135 lb
age :: 16
distinguishing features :: AURA OF EMOKID
writer :: CASEY

***

Jiman didn't even look at his sister, still listening to the noises downstairs. "A divorce?" Pause, rewind, replay in Jiman's not-so-emo-on-the-inside mind, "Taking the kids? TAKING THE KIDS?! OH FUCK NOES!" He stood up straight, taking Aware's wrist, "Fuck this shit, we're going down there!"

"Yeek!!" Aware, unaware of sudden movements from her brother, was sent off balance at the sudden tug from her crouching position. Recovery. Quickly. "Yeah! Like, fuck that!!" From voice to whisper. "We really gotta kill her if we can't sort through the legalese. Hopefully, dad won't tell her--"

"Yeah, Yoko? Well that's fine. I'm SO fucking over you and your shit and trying to deal with it. I'm fucking the babysitter anyways because I've been so fucking stressed about you hating my fucking guts that I've been going fucking nuts, and she's the only one fucking willing to support me around here! Fucking bitch! I HOPE YOUR MOM DIES. I've always hated that bitch. GOD it feels good to get that out."

"--...about that. Well FUCK ME, Jiman. GOD. I need an expresso and a fucking manicure."

With a Gunma ROOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAR, Yoko bared her claws and went right after her husband, digging her sharpened talons into his jugular and squeezing with all of her might -- forcing him backwards and knocking over a vase in the process.

Jiman was down the stairs in no time flat! -If Aware couldn't keep up, that was her own damn fault for being slow! No more Mr. Emo Guy, that's for fucking sure!

"BiTch, you better pray to your fucking ancestors that you don't leave a mark on my Dad, or I swear to GOD you'll regret it!" An accusatory finger was stuck out towards his parents as he marched right up to the clawing woman and her husband, human-fangs bared. "I'm sick to death of this BullshiT! EVERY GODDAMN time you're here! -You think you're gonna take us away from our Dad? From Tokyo? You think you're gonna get Maru? WELL YOU GOT ANOTHER THING COMIN' WOMAN!"