"𝙸𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚍𝚛𝚢? 𝙸𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐? 𝙼𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚒𝚜𝚗'𝚝" - 𝙰𝚜𝚑𝚕𝚎𝚢 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚜

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"You're not gonna stab me again, are you?" Nikolai teased as I made my way down the freshly cleaned staircase. I was cautious not to put my hands on the railing and ruin all of Ivan's hard work.

"Oh. Nikolai. I didn't know you were here," I said, a bit surprised. He didn't have a card covering his eye today, and his silver hair was a little more neat than usual. He wore a black suit and looked like he was ready to go out somewhere nice.

"Awe. Fedya, you didn't tell her I was coming?" He pouted and put his cheeks between his hands as he leaned over the kitchen island.

"It was not my top priority," Fyodor responded monotonously as he adjusted the buttons of his black shirt. It was really weird to see these men in clothing that wasn't white. I could hardly believe it was even real.

"But I wanted her to come with," the clown whined. He pushed himself off the counter and quite literally danced his way over. He grabbed my hands and forced me to dance with him in a childlike fashion.

"Uh..," I mumbled as he twirled me around. I glanced at Fyodor for a little help, and he seemed to catch on.

"Please don't pester Anastasia, Kolya," Fyodor sighed. He didn't seem too happy about going wherever it was that they were headed off to.

Nikolai stopped and turned, giving him a pleading look. "Pleaasssee can we take her with us?" He begged. I raised a brow behind him.

Fyodors eyes flicked to me briefly before they went back to the clown. "If she wants to come, she is welcomed to" he said blandly.

Nikolai gave a bright smile. "It's settled then! She's coming to the bar with us!" He cheered as he clapped his hands together dramatically.

"You did not even ask her," Fyodor gave a soft glare in his direction.

"Oh, but she wouldn't turn me down. Right, Anastasia? After all, you still need to make it up to me for stabbing me," he said with a devious grin.

"You want to take my sister to a bar?" Klaus nearly snorted as he commented from his spot at the dining table. He had a bowl of cereal in front of him and he was aimlessly scrolling though his phone.

"You say that as if it is a bad thing?" Fyodor asked in a curious tone.

Klaus shook his head. "She will drink you both under the table in a heart beat. But good luck," he laughed to himself.

Nikolai's eyes went wide with delight. "Oh, so you are well versed in the bar scene?" He practically cooed as the words tumbled from his lips.

I shrugged. "I had nothing better to do when I was on my previous missions, so I guess so"

It wasn't long before they were dragging me along to the bar with them, sporting an outfit that I dreadfully let Nikolai pick out. It was a short red dress covered entirely in sequins, and it barely covered my ass. I at least put some tights underneath, but it didn't help me feel any less like a hooker, especially with my breasts looking as though they were going to fall out of it at any moment. I also didn't like how exposed my scars would be, but at least it was usually pretty dark in bars.

We arrived there shortly and Fyodor escorted me out of the taxi like the gentleman that he was. Once I got inside, I felt my stomach flip. This was a nightclub, not a bar.

I followed the men up to the counter, and we all sat on some open stools. Fyodor and Nikolai ordered a drink of their choosing, and I ordered a simple rum on the rocks. There was a massive crowd of people all across the dance floor, swaying their hips to the fast-paced music.

"Ana, would you mind if I stole my beloved friend from you for a minute?" Nikolai spoke into my ear and I jumped. I had tuned everything out and didn't even realize he had gotten up.

"Why are you asking me?" I raised a brow and took a sip from my glass.

"It is not wise to leave her alone when she is dressed in such a manner," Fyodor scowled. I shook my head with a soft laugh. It was certainly not out of character for him to not be able to let go and have fun in a setting such as this.

"I'll be fine, Fyodor. I can handle myself," I smiled at him and waved at them dismissively. Nikolai drug him into the crowd, and they were off. Probably to go dance somewhere. Though the idea of the Russian dancing to music like this was certainly laughable.

I ordered a few more drinks while they were gone. I was 6 glasses in and just now feeling a buzz. That's probably why I didn't pay attention to the man standing next to me until he spoke.

"This seat taken?" He asked with a raspy voice. He sported a tight button up with only one of the buttons actually done, revealing his muscular chest. He had tight jeans and a leather belt. His blonde hair was slicked back and his brown eyes were dead set on me.

"Be my guest," I mumbled. I chugged the rest of my current drink down. I just wanted this to be over with already. I knew his type very well, and it was only a matter of time before he started hitting on me. He sat down to my left, and I kept my sights to the various bottles of liquor behind the bar.

"You're here alone?" He inquired with a grin. The kind of grin that made him look like his ego mattered more than anything.

"I am here with friends," I stated blandly. I was not interested, and even if I was, it wasn't like he was worth my attention. He wasn't very original.

"And they just left you here by yourself? Sounds like you need some new ones," he mused. He slid me a drink that he had ordered without my knowledge.

I glanced at the glass but slid it right back. "Not interested," I muttered. I ordered another drink for myself from the barkeep. I wouldn't be surprised if he had laced the one he gave me.

"My apologies, miss. Would you like to dance instead? Perhaps I can make it up to you?" He gave a warm smile as he stood up, offering me his hand.

I scanned the crowd, searching for any sort of excuse to turn him down, but I couldn't find one. Not with the alcohol hitting me faster than I could process.

Fuck it.

I took his hand and let him lead me to the dance floor. We brushed past a few sweaty bodies until we found an open space. He started moving his arms as he rocked his hips, and I very lazily did the same. I hardly moved my body as I stood in front of him.

"You dress like that and yet you dance as if you don't even want to be here," he whispered into my ear as he leaned forward.

I stared off into the club. "I don't," I answered sternly.

The man frowned, pulling himself back. He put his hands on my hips and tried to force me to move them more provocatively, and I scoffed. I shoved his hands away and took a step back. "Mind your fucking manners," I seethed. I shook my head and turned away from him.

"Maybe you should mind yours," he barked back, but I couldn't say that I cared. My eyes landed on an exit sign, and I made that my destination. I shoved my way through the groups of drunk and horny idiots, and pushed the large handle of the door.

"You think it's polite to walk away when someone's talking to you? That's not very ladylike" he hissed. The door closed behind us and he forcefully pushed me back against the cold cement wall.

"Unhand me," I glared at him. He grabbed my hands, and moved them above my head, effectively pinning those too. I could've easily fought him off by this point, but I was curious to see how much audacity he had.

"There you go. Now you're learning," he gave a distasteful smirk as he leaned in and started assaulting my neck with his whiskey stained lips.

"I said, unhand me," I growled and brought my leg up. I felt my knee make contact with his stomach and he toppled over.

"You fucking bitch," he murmured, standing back up. He grabbed the back of my head and slammed me back up into the wall. I could feel the concrete scrape my cheeks as I laughed.

"What's so fucking funny, princess?" He said darkly, pressing me harder against the wall. He used his foot to kick my feet out, spreading my legs.

I didn't answer him. I grabbed the hand that he had tangled in my hair, and pushed it down as I turned around. I swung at him, and he reared back as he clutched his face.

He glared at me as he spit a mouthful of blood into the cigarette covered ground. "You'll pay for that, you whore"

I stood there, hands behind my back. This man did not scare me, and I was patiently waiting for his next move so I could counter it. Honestly, I was amused by his arrogance.

"Ana, there you are darling!" Nikolai smiled wide as the door swung open with an annoyed Fyodor in right behind him. "I see you've made a friend?" He asked with a suspicious tone. He kept his smile but his brows bowed inward.

"I ain't no fucking friend of hers. She doesn't put out," the man retorted as he rubbed his jaw. He spit out more blood as he proceeded to glare at me with unrivaled rage.

Nikolai snickered. "Looks like you got what was coming to you"

Fyodor stayed silent, observing the situation with a watchful eye. He wasn't watching me though. No. His eyes were glued to the drunkard.

"Like hell I did. I'm going to get what I want out of her. I ain't no bitch," the man declared as he lunged at me. He didn't get very far before my hand was around his throat and he was the one against the wall.

"You won't get anything from me," I slammed his face into the concrete and let him go. He slid down and I could see the blood start dripping from a new gash above his right eyebrow.

He grabbed my leg, catching me off guard. I fell backwards and was prepared to catch myself, but my back hit something in the process. I looked up to see Fyodor with his arms tucked under mine. He pulled me back and helped me regain my footing.

"You wreak of rum," he said quietly. I couldn't tell if he was scolding me or just pointing out a fact. His face was completely unreadable.

"I'm not that drunk, I promise. He came on to me and wouldn't let me be. He asked for this," I explained before he had a chance to assume. He nodded stiffly and moved me so that I was standing next to Nikolai, who was watching with excitement. He clearly likes violence.

"Do you make a habit of forcing yourself upon innocent women?" Fyodor asked calmly as he towered over the man.

"Only when they lead me on. Nobody makes a fool out of me," he stifled a groan as he stood up.

Fyodor was still much taller than him, and it only amplified the threat. Much to my surprise though, the Russian turned away, making a "tsk" noise as he did so.

"Who the fuck are you to look down on me? I bet you're not any better. Us men gotta stick together, you know? We can't let these bitches be so sensitive," the man puffed out his chest, clearly trying to act as if his masculinity was something to be proud of. Plot twist- it wasn't.

"I do not condone any of the choices you have made tonight. I will not align myself with sinful beings," Fyodor blinked as he looked over his shoulder at the idiot.

He moved forward and put his hand on something behind his hip. "Condone? Sinful?" He laughed. "I did nothing wrong. All I did was take what was rightfully mine"

Fyodor was calm. Much too calm for the way this man was acting. I knew the Russian next to me well enough to understand that his silence was more threatening than anything. Fyodor was a wanted criminal. He was feared across all of Japan and America. The Armed Detective agency and the Port Mafia both wanted his head on a silver platter.

I still didn't even entirely know what his ability even was, either. The AUGA agency listed his ability as "crime and punishment", but what did that even mean? I knew that Chuuya manipulated gravity, with power that compared to a god. I knew that Dazais power was called "no longer human", and it nullified anybodys ability. I knew that Akutagawa had Rashoumon, Atsushi had Beast Beneath the Moonlight, Kyōka had demon snow, and that I had the ability to ressurect the dead and heal somebody. But what the hell did Fyodors do?

"How very bold of you," Fyodor said with a slick tongue. He was reserved, and didn't show an ounce of aggression in his body language, but anyone with a conscience could tell he was seconds away from decimating the man in front of us.

The man grinned from ear to ear, and slid a gun out from some hidden compartment behind him. I could see a wicked smile cross Fyodors lips as the man pointed the gun right at his forehead.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you" Nikolai giggled from his spot next to me. I side-eyed the clown for a moment before turning my attention back to the men in front of us.

The man cocked his gun, which resulted in Fyodor reaching his hands out. One grabbed the barrel of the gun and redirected it to the sky, and the fingertips of his other hand made contact with the man's forehead, and we were all immediately blinded.

A bright purple light pulsed from the point where his fingers made contact, sweeping over the space around us with a pulsing motion. The grass flew back, and the trees shook violently with the force. Nikolai and I used our arms to shield ourselves from the power that was radiating off of them like a nuclear war zone.

The wave of energy washed over us, and the glow quickly dimmed as the man fell to his knees. He was gurgling, choking on his own blood as it poured from his mouth, eyes, ears, and every other hole on his body. He looked at Fyodor with horror as he fell toward.

Fyodor shoved the man's dead body off his foot as he landed on top of it, and scoffed as he backed away.

"Marvelous!" Nikolai clapped. He was elated with the show. I, on the other hand, felt nothing but guilt and dread. It wasn't the dead body that made me feel the bile rising in my throat, and that honestly made it worse.

Fyodor turned to me. "I'm sorry you had to see that, Anastasia," he said, taking a step forward.

I stepped back. As far back as I could until my back hit the wall. Nikolai stopped clapping and looked me with curiosity.

Fyodors face contorted into something I couldn't discern as he took another step toward me. He kept up with this until he was right in front of me.

"Anastasia," he said gently as he placed a hand on my cheek. I turned my head away and I could hear him sigh.

"This was not your fault," he said softly. His was still as calm as always, yet he seemed to understand the internal dilemma I was having. It was like he knew that I blamed myself. That I felt the presence of even more blood on my hands.

"I shouldn't have encouraged him," I kept my gaze to Nikolai's feet. "I was toying with him. I didn't know it would go this far. I didn't mean for him to die. I left that version of myself behind me when I signed that contract. I-"

"Anastasia," Fyodor cut me off as he said my name a little more strictly.

Anxiously, I turned my head. I looked up and saw the way he was looking at me. It wasn't a scold, or a warning. Instead he was gentle and sympathetic, even if his voice didn't match.

"This was no fault of yours. You should not have ever even been in such a position where you felt as though you needed to act violently. I apologize sincerely for allowing that to happen in my presence," he slid a finger under my chin and tilted my head up. He glanced at the shell necklace around my neck, the one he gave me, and briefly smiled.

"That necklace may serve as a reminder that you are not the Assassin you once were. Russia welcomed you with open arms. It forgave you. It is time for you to forgive yourself, now. The ocean cannot do that for you," he whispered as he pulled his fingers away.

I could see Nikolai in my peripheral. He seemed completely astonished by the way Fyodor acted just now, and I couldn't say I blamed him. I should've known not to expect anything less than pure grace from the Russian, and yet I was still completely and utterly dumbfounded.

"Let's go. Nikolai," Fyodor called to his friend, snapping him out of his stunned trance.

"Right," the clown smiled and offered me a hand, which I gratefully accepted.