The assassin crouched in the shadows, his hat pulled low over his glowing eyes. The windswept ledge he was perched on was hardly wider than a child's arm, but he was as comfortable as he would have been in his own bed - moreso, perhaps. He checked the wind, sensing it more than anything, and nocked an arrow. A green sheen on the broad head of the arrow, revealed by the light of the full moon overhead, told of the deadly cargo from which the assassin drew his name. He adjusted the black mask over his jaw, then settled back against the ledge.

He focused on the target, a well-dressed young man wearing a top hat. He was in the company of a pretty young woman who sat petting a white dog she held in her lap. The pair were sitting together outside a cafe, eating and talking beneath the gas-lights. A perfectly normal scene; except it wasn't. Something was wrong about it, but the assassin couldn't identify what it was. He shook his head to clear it. 'Just finish the job,' he told himself. 'The sooner you do, the sooner you're paid and can get back to Kat.'

He drew back the arrow, feeling the black feathers brush his ear as he did so. Something was still woefully wrong about the situation, but he could ponder whatever it was after he had killed the man below. He watched the man take a bite from the raw steak on his plate, then released the arrow. Below, the young man had disappeared from his seat just as the arrow impaled the back of the chair he had just vacated. It was still quivering when the man rose to his feet, dusting himself off. He was, surprisingly, staring up at the assassin. What's more, he had six glowing red eyes. 'How unexpected,' the assassin thought. He spread his black wings and took the sky, his bow already strapped to his back and his small crossbows now in hand. The auburn-haired woman had picked up her white dog and had stepped under the shelter of the cafe veranda, while the white-haired man had... disappeared? He dove toward the empty streets below, searching for his prey.

He almost didn't stop in time as the red-eyed nightmare-creature hurled itself up at him, all claws and fangs and hissed curses. It was an anju, a quasi-demon of notable power. And this one was bent on taking him apart. He flapped backwards, straining back towards the sky as he fired his crossbows at the beast, first one and then the other. One bolt went wide, while the other was true - until the anju caught it in mid-flight and snapped it in half. The assassin was somewhat annoyed - he wasn't being paid well enough for this kind of hassle. Still, this was a far more interesting evening than the one he had planned for himself, so he supposed that somewhat made up for the trouble. But only somewhat.

.......................

Sabin was righteously put out. Here he was, trying to have nice quiet evening with Sam, when out of nowhere this winged bastard with glowing green eyes shows up and tries to puncture him with an arrow. And in the middle of dinner, no less! 'Could anything be more gauche? I think not.' Spinning about, he tried to keep the flyer in his sights. It was difficult, but not impossible - six eyes do manage to give one something of a visual advantage.

Already the flying nuisance had nearly landed a blow with that crossbow bolt, and Sabin had yet to so much as scratch his opponent. 'Unthinkable!' Summoning his strength, the anju-man leapt as high as he could - and managed to clamp one claw around the winged man's ankle. He dug in, allowing his sharp claws to draw blood as they tightened. He was rewarded with an inhuman shriek of pain. Smiling viciously, he swung his other claw up and dug in where he could.

.......................

'Dammit!' The anju was tearing into his other leg now. He was going to have to do something, and quickly. He began to beat his wings faster, taking them higher. The pain rippling through his lower body distracted him momentarily, and it was enough. The demon, once chained in his mind tore free, enraged at the punishment the assassin was taking. Howling in anger, it turned on the anju, its form shifting from man to demon in space of a few seconds. Now it was leaning forward and burying its own claws deep in the other shadow-creature's back. As its wings were unable to support them both in flight, the two began a slow tumble towards the ground, locked in a black whirlwind of claws and blood.

They were still tearing at each other when impact with the ground forced them both apart. Slowly, the demon rose, shaking himself off, his eyes a flaming green mass. The anju was already on its feet, the six red eyes on its elongated head glaring balefully at the other shadow-creature.

"What is the meaning of this?" the anju hissed. Painfully, the assassin began to reassert his will, driving the shadow-demon back into the depths of his mind. Not so long ago, he would have been forced to wait until the creature exhausted itself. Now he was strong enough to fight back. He felt his shape slowly slip back into that of a man, albeit one with torn clothing from having held the inhuman shape of the shadow demon for too long.

"I was hired to do a job," the assassin said. He began replacing his weapons in their holsters. The fight had gone on long enough - he had no intention of fulfilling a contract for which he had been given incomplete information. The anju made no move to stop him.

"Why do you cease your fighting?" the nightmare creature asked. It sounded more curious than angry.

"Because I wasn't hired to kill an anju. I was hired to kill a man, which you clearly are not." The assassin twisted his head, cracking his neck loudly. "The contract is null and void."

"Who hired you?" The anju asked, though it looked less like an anju and more like a man at this point. The assassin snorted.

"That would be telling," he said, checking to make sure his throwing knives were secure.

"The contract is null and void," the white-haired man reminded him. He really did look human now, though the six glowing eyes detracted from that somewhat. "He has breached the contract by not giving you full disclosure, has he not?"

The assassin considered the words of his former target. "You speak well," he finally said. He did not mention that speaking well was the surest way to sow distrust in the assassin's mind. Few things were as treacherous as a well-spoken man.

"Where will you go now?" The man was smoothing his white hair back.

"Back to my client to discuss matters." 'To discuss an increase in my fee so I can get back to the business of ending your life, he thought.

"I shall go with you," the anju-man said.

The assassin laughed. It was not a nice sound. "I don't think so."

"Will you stop me?" The white-haired man took a step back, his eyes narrowing.

"Would I have to?" the assassin asked, his tone still echoing the amusement in his eyes.

"Yes." The other man's eyes betrayed nothing but seriousness.

The assassin sighed, then extended his hand. "I'm Poison Arrow."

The white-haired man smiled suddenly and grasped the proffered hand. "I'm Sabin Duvert, he said.