Yui adjusted the earpiece hidden in her ear. Her dark brown hair, layered and extending to just beneath her shoulders, conveniently camouflaged the attached wire. Eyes never leaving her target, she took a breath and murmured into her almost invisible mouthpiece, “He’s in place.” Immediately afterwards, she switched off her microphone.

Several meters away from her, Kouichi inclined her head in a slight nod of acknowledgement and beckoned to the girl on her left.  As Yui watched from the bushes, her fraternal twin sister motioned to the hired girl and together, they grabbed the large poster and carried it over to the couple sitting on the bench.

Monitoring the events with her eyes and ears, Yui stood up, brushed off some of the shrubbery from her black jeans, and waited for her cue.

“Remember,” her slightly curly blond-haired sister was reminding the girl, “I want you to take up as much space as possible. Make yourself look big. And friendly. Look friendly and smile a lot. But leave the talking to me.”

“I understand,” the girl responded.

They approached the couple sitting on the bench.

“Hello,” Kouichi said brightly, in perfect Russian, “My name is Daria, and this is my teammate, Alexandra. Together, we are here to ask you to support our campaign for…” Yui watched as Kouichi strategically placed herself directly in front of the sun, while Alexandra stood a meter away, holding the other end of the large poster that they both carried. The couple was squinting, cupping their eyes to get a better look at the two girls and the giant cardboard tool that stood at the front of their line of vision and blocked their view of everything behind them. Perfect.

Without wasting another second, Yui got up and walked briskly to the playground where several toddlers and young children were playing. Locating the little boy she had been carefully watching playing in the sandbox by himself, she plopped herself down next to him and smiled.

“Hi,” she said. “Do you want some candy?”

The boy looked up at her. He could not have been more than five. Slowly, he shook his head. Smart kid, Yui thought. Oh well. From the pocket of her thin worn jacket, she pulled out a large piece of candy and unwrapped it. She dangled it tantalizingly in front of the child’s face. “Mm, doesn’t that look good? You sure you don’t want it?”

She could see the kid slowly reconsider. She took that second to press her earpiece again and quickly sneak a glance at the group by the benches.

“—I’m sorry,” the woman was shaking her head and saying, “but I don’t think we are interested—”

No time, then. Quickly, Yui plopped the candy into the boy’s mouth, gave him a few seconds to start it, and then pulled him to his feet and started dragging him into the direction of the trees.

The dosage of the medicine that lined the candy’s outer surface should be kicking in soon; meanwhile she just had to hope that the boy would be sedated enough to follow her grip without too much resistance. But after a month of working with Kouichi on this particular venture, Yui trusted in her sister’s medical knowledge and judgment.

They reached the trees. Before doing anything else, Yui activated her microphone again and whispered, “Done.”

Deftly, she swung the kid onto her back and then grabbed the nearby cloak already laid out on the ground, fastening it on top of her. Securing the clasp on top of his arms to hide their presence, she shifted his weight and pulled the hood over her face. The boy was already too sedated to remain conscious, let alone complain.

“Ah, okay. Well, thank you for your time,” Kouichi was saying on the other end. “Let’s go, Alexandra.” She expertly steered the girl away in the general direction of another couple sitting on the next bench over. Alexandra had showed some signs of wanting to go back to where Yui was, but luckily she kept shut and just simply followed her older companion. 

Kouichi meandered for another half a minute, and then after finding an isolated spot perhaps one hundred meters away from where Yui remained hidden, she finally stopped walking. Alexandra waited expectantly.

“Here you go,” Kouichi said, giving the girl a handful of rubles. “This should be more than enough. Keep the change. And the poster.” While the girl was busy counting the coins, Kouichi took the moment to quietly slip away. By the time Alexandra looked up again, her mysterious companion had already disappeared forever.

Two minutes later, Kouichi reappeared by her sister’s side and both shut off their microphones and earpieces. Silently, Kouichi pulled on her cloak and both quickly started walking away from the playground. “Any complications?” she muttered, visibly glad to be speaking in her native tongue again.

“None,” Yui assured her. She glanced sideways—“but your wig is slightly crooked. I can see a bit of your hair.” At that, Kouichi frowned and adjusted her fake blond curls, which hid her naturally short black hair underneath. “Don’t worry, it’s not that noticeable. You’re fine.

“Did they suspect anything?” she continued.

“I doubt it. They were probably too selfish to,” Kouichi said condescendingly. “I mean, they didn’t even care about helping us. Not that it matters—”

“What was the cause today?” Yui asked, eyes gleaming. “Global warming? Helping the old and disabled? Feeding the homeless?”

“Oi! It was fundraising for the poor,” Kouichi retorted. “Honestly, people like that deserve to be stolen from.”

“Do you think asking for $5,000USD was okay?”

“That’s definitely more than fine. They’re rich enough to afford it. Did you leave the ransom note?”

“I clipped it to his toy truck. Hopefully, his parents have enough sense to find it before another kid claims the toy.” At this, Yui looked up doubtfully. “I mean, for his sake, as well as for ours. But if they were careless enough to allow their child to be kidnapped…”

“Oh, come on. Give us some credit,” Kouichi kidded her. “They’re just not good enough for us.” Yui smiled.

“Not yet…”

The next day, Yui woke up early and returned to the site of the previous day’s kidnapping for a long day of stakeout. The ransom note she left behind had demanded that the money be brought by 12:00, but there’s no saying what the parents could have done between now and then. Kouichi, who had eventually followed them home after their distraught discovery of the child’s disappearance, had volunteered to spend the night spying on them. Yui knew she herself couldn’t, and admired her sister’s nerves of steel.

She tapped her earpiece. “Did they contact any authorities?”

“No,” came the irritated response from the other end. “They spent the whole night panicking and wondering what to do and discussing how to save their child without paying the money, et cetera, et cetera. Your note worked; they’re too scared to get in touch with the police. But they didn’t sleep. And that means I couldn’t, either.”

Yui made a noise of sympathy. “I’ll plan the next one, then. You can rest on the more comfortable bench tonight.”

“The kid?”

“Completely out. The chocolates have been sedating them.” Yui then allowed herself a brief smile at the irony of her words. “I gave him one more this morning before coming here. But man, he’s heavy for a five-year old...”

After they had cleared the woods yesterday, she had taken off her cloak and the two had merged into the crowd of other passerby and students: A short pale blond girl and her baby-sitter companion carrying a sleeping child on her back as they walked through the streets; just two more Russian pedestrians in a city where such scenes were so common no one bothered to look twice. 

There was a sudden noise from Kouichi’s end. “Oh—I think they’re coming out now,” Kouichi said, with a hint of excitement in her voice. It was followed by a mutter that didn’t escape Yui’s ears: “They’d better be going to the bank…”

Yui sighed. The boy was next to her, soundly sleeping under a pile of warm twigs and leaves to protect him from the cold November wind. She almost wanted to trade places with him. What must life feel like, she mused vaguely, to be five and have absolutely no cares? He had parents to provide him the luxury of toys and trips to the playground. Her parent, on the other hand, gave his children a difficult mission to accomplish and a dangerous legacy to inherit, provided they survive the former.

Pushing those thoughts aside, she yawned and got up briefly to stretch out her legs. Having taken up overnight child guard duty, Yui hadn’t dared to sleep, either, out of fear that he would wake up in the middle of the night and inadvertently alert the hotel authorities of their illegal presence. After all, Russian hotels generally did not welcome freeloaders, much less penniless foreigners only pretending to be Russian.

Which is why they had taken to temporarily living in the women’s locker room of the hotel gym.

Yui took out a few darts from her bag and started throwing them at the nearby trees to stay awake. The makeshift target practice kept her sniping skills from getting rusty, as well as gave her something to do to pass the time. “Talk to me,” she said aloud, “Any updates worth noting?”

On the other end, Kouichi let out a noise of frustration. “They’re taking a car!” she exclaimed. “Would it have killed them to save gas and walk? Honestly, it’s people like them who cause global warming…” Yui heard her breathing get heavier, as she was no doubt resorting to creative ways to keep up with the car.

“Where are you now? Maybe we can switch positions midway.”

“No good. They’re going in the opposite direction of where you’re at—”

Yui frowned. The bank was close to the playground. “Kouichi, they might be going to the police.”

“What kind of moronic parent waits until the next day to contact the police?” Kouichi asked, exasperated.

 “Just keep following them; with any luck, we don’t have to take this plan to the next step,” Yui said tersely. Did the twins underestimate them? In the ransom note, they had made it very clear that any contact with authorities would jeopardize the child’s safety. The parents were willing to take that risk?

She sighed at the uncertainty of the situation. She could see why Kouichi hated kids.

Ten minutes later, as Yui was throwing the last of her remaining darts, Kouichi’s voice returned to her ears. “Okay,” she said, sounding out of breath. “They’ve stopped.”

“Where are you guys now?”

“I’m not too sure. We’re in the countryside now. They’re going towards a majestic…oh, no wait.”

Yui waited impatiently.

“They’re going to a temple,” Kouichi said, sounding stupefied. “Like one of those Japanese Shinto temples we used to pass by all the time at home.”

“They have those things in Russia?”

“I guess? I don’t think I can follow them in unnoticed, though.”

“No choice but to wait for them to come out, then,” Yui sighed. In her heart, she felt something stir, and inwardly scolded herself for the brief lapse in her professional attitude towards the whole situation. Business was business, and the sudden realization that perhaps their victims were in some ways more similar to themselves than they would like to admit was not a thought to be tolerated right now.

“How are things going on at your end?”

Yui glanced around at the park. It was still largely deserted, though given the fact that the sun hadn’t even properly risen yet, this was to be expected. “Uneventful. No one’s here yet.”

“Are you lonely?”

The sudden question took Yui by surprise. “What do you mean?”

There was a rustle as Kouichi adjusted her mike. “Right now, in this whole world…” she said evenly, “we only have each other. Everyone else is irrelevant, no matter how close they may seem to resonate with you.”

“I understand.” Somehow, despite the weak earpiece connection they shared, Kouichi had been able to read into her tone and interpret her feelings. Feeling emboldened, Yui continued, “It doesn’t matter who they are, because they have no relationship with us. We have nothing in common.”

“Exactly. We’re not even Shinto, anyway.”

A cold wind suddenly blew, rifling through Yui’s bare brown hair and stinging her exposed neck. Unable to help herself, she crouched down and cupped her gloved hands together to her face, rubbing her cheeks to stay warm. “It’s so cold here…” Another break in professionalism.

 “I know,” her sister’s voice said pragmatically through the earpiece, “but keep it up just a bit longer. In a few hours, we’ll have finally completed this project and can go home.”

“Haha. Like we have a home to go back to,” Yui said mirthlessly, her professional attitude slowly returning again.

 “Better than being completely homeless,” Kouichi said lightly, continuing the joke that wasn’t even a joke. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m the kidnapper standing here, under some trees, overlooking a religious temple; honestly, things don’t get much more awkward than that.”

Yui laughed in appreciation of the irony, and both fell into contemplative silence for a few minutes. Next to Yui, the boy stirred, moaned a bit, and then rolled over and continued sleeping. Watching him, Yui felt her own eyelids droop slightly.

“Where are we going to go after this?”

“Huh?” Yui barely stifled her yawn.

“You know, our next target. Any ideas?”

“Oh…um. I guess I was thinking we could try a different town. A different school district, since, you know.” She heard Kouichi grunt in agreement. “Let’s go somewhere warmer,” Yui continued sleepily.

“Oi, Yui. Wake up! You’re supposed to be on guard duty,” Kouichi said impatiently. “Don’t fall asleep now! What is somebody comes?”

Yui stood up and walked over to the nearest tree and banged her forehead against it. She stepped away and saw stars. As her pain receptors kicked in, she brushed the debris away and repositioned the clipped microphone. “I’m awake now.”

There was no response.

“Kouichi?” Gah, her twin had better not fallen asleep herself. “Psst, Kouichi! Any updates? Hello?”

“I…” Kouichi wasn’t sleeping. There was another reason for the sudden breathless quality to her voice. “That is—”

“What’s going on over there?”

“They’ve—they’ve left the temple,” she heard Kouichi say faintly. “And now, they’re standing at a cemetery.”

“A what?” There had been some interference from her end.

“A cemetery.” Yui stopped cold. “Yui-chan, there’s a cemetery here. Just behind the temple grounds…”

“Kouichi,” she said softly.

Kouichi’s voice struggled to remain calm as she continued reporting. “They’ve brought flowers and incense. They’re all bowing and praying now.”

Yui was silent for a moment, and then cautiously ventured, “Perhaps they’re just praying to their ancestors for the safety of their child?”

“Ye—yeah, perhaps…”

“Kouichi.”

“It’s—” Yui heard a short, forced laugh. “It’s just weird, you know? Seeing Russian Shintos. I can’t believe they even exist.” She waited, knowing that Kouichi, like her, was trying to compose herself. “Like—I mean, we’re Japanese, but—”

“It’s ironic,” Yui finished for her, knowing full well what her sister wanted to say. 

“Two Japanese kidnappers, homeless and stuck in Russia, stalking a Russian family who is apparently Shinto. I don’t even. That makes so little sense, it’s almost funny,” Kouichi said, laughing hollowly. Yui closed her eyes. Her sister’s rambling was illogical; Yui knew she was just trying to say something to cover up her sudden emotions, to quickly erase the memories that both could not help but recall on the spot.

“Kouichi,” she said again.

“No. Don’t. Call me by my real name. Please.” Even though the earpiece, there was no mistaking the emptiness in her twin’s voice. Rarely Yui felt the need to step up and take on the role of protector, but she knew that right now, her sister needed her to be strong.

“Okay, Etsuko…” she said quietly. “Listen to me…”

After a long talk with her sister, Yui’s body had reached its limit. Physically and emotionally drained, she had collapsed into the leaves next to her sleeping hostage, and one hour later, it was only the years of training and the honing her body’s senses that had alerted her to the approaching presence of another.

Footsteps crunched softly on the fallen leaves, as only two other people in the world right now would choose to be here, at this park and at this hour, enduring the cold winds of a Russian winter.

The couple was making their way to the playground, coming from the opposite side of the field. Even with the distance, Yui could make out their tired and defeated facial expressions, and with a pang in her chest, she recognized the familiarity of their anguish. She quickly switched on her microphone again.

“Kouichi,” she said, and then stopped.

“I’m here,” her sister’s voice said, crackling softly. “Do you see them?”

The woman was opening up her purse. Surely not knowing for certain that two pairs of eyes were watching her, she withdrew a large envelope and placed it on the bench where she had been sitting yesterday. As instructed. Her husband stood by her side, and whispered something to her.

“What did he just say?” Yui asked.

Kouichi relayed the message. “He just asked if they were really going to do this. Leaving the money here and believing that the kidnappers will really return their child.” As both watched, he wrapped his arms around his wife and hugged her close, murmuring soft words of encouragement. Even without the help of audio, there was no mistaking the meaning of his speech. Yui felt her heart sink and turned away.

“Of course they don’t have to worry about that… we would never kidnap a child permanently.”

The couple slowly made their way to the car parked at the edge of the playground. Yui watched as Kouichi then nimbly stepped out from her hiding spot and taking cover of the darkness, approached the bench and grabbed the envelope. Her soundless steps could not mask the quickening of Yui’s heart, and it wasn’t until after Kouichi had safely returned to the trees did Yui start breathing more easily.

The couple had entered their car and closed the door, but the engine did not start, and for a few moments, all was silent and still. Through the earpiece, Yui heard Kouichi open the envelope and count the bills.

“4,800…4,900… 5,000. Yup, all $5,000 here.”

They paid. They really did. But then again, why wouldn’t they? Yui mused, as she turned towards the reason of their sudden income.

“Let’s return him now,” she said. “There’s no reason to have to wait until 12 anymore.”

Across the playground, Kouichi let out a sigh of relief. “Let me know whenever you’re ready,” she said, indicating the final phase of the operation.

Yui began prodding the boy. “Hey,” she said when he finally woke up, “it’s time to go home.”

He rubbed his eyes sleepily. “To mommy and daddy?” he asked.

Yui smiled. “Yes.” To Kouichi, she said, “Now. But you can see them through the windshield?”

“Yes. You’re covered. Expect the okay in ten seconds.”

Ten seconds left with the boy. Crouching down to his level, Yui looked into his eyes and realized that she had regrets. She sighed. Am I really going to live the rest of my life feeling this way…? Placing a piece of paper into his hands, she gave him a brief hug. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

There was another slight crackling sound. “Now,” Kouichi’s voice said in her ears.

With a last smile, Yui let go and pushed him out. “Go home,” she said. “Good-bye.”

Standing near the edge of the trees, she watched as the boy stumbled across the playground; lights flashed in the car’s interior and his parents ran out. The reunited in the middle of the sandbox, their loud sobs of anxiety and relief punctuating the otherwise silent morning. Hidden safely among the shadows of the trees, Yui gave them a long bow from the waist, and then turned around and quietly slipped away. The job was done.

A few minutes later, Kouichi found her and fell into step. Side by side the two walked, and for a few moments, both were quiet, lost in their own thoughts. As Yui switched off her microphone and earpiece, Kouichi broke the silence.

“What did you write on the note?” she asked. Yui glanced up, surprised. “After they finished hugging, the boy gave them a piece of paper. It was from you, right?”

“How did they react?” Yui asked apprehensively.

Kouichi was silent. “They said nothing,” she finally answered. “They just looked at it for a long time, and then they all walked back to their car together.”

Yui took this in. “I see…” she said.

“So what did you write?”

Yui kept walking. “I just wrote ‘I’m sorry.’ And ‘thank you,’” she answered simply. She turned her face and her gaze met Kouichi’s. For a second she saw herself reflected in her sister’s eyes, and in that moment, she knew Kouichi understood.

Kouichi sighed and shook her head. “You and your morals,” was all she could say. “But I suppose I won’t lecture you about it today.”