Don't Give A What

. . .

"Yes. Miura-dono." Willy opened his phone. "Arturo, on the count of three, start the ceremony... one... two... thr--"

"Okay wait!" Zeirenne surrendered with her arms up front. She was eyeing Jin who was a millisecond away from tackling Willy. Jin stepped back to his position before anyone could even notice he moved.

"I'd like to propose a deal."

"And what could you possibly interest me into accepting?"

"That song... I mean it is a PIECE but since you're careless enough to call it a 'song' then so be it," she said with air quotations, "So yeah... that song you'd asked me to play. I'll tell you everything you have to know about it."

Miura Takumi fixed himself up on his seat. This time, he seemed interested. Very interested.

"From everything you've said earlier, it seems like killing me is not in your list. Right?" She said, "And why is that? Because I'm the only link you have to that piece... or song. I don't need the reason for your attachment to it but I do know you're dying to find everything about that piece. Tell me I'm wrong."

Zeirenne looked up to Miura Takumi with provocative eyes. He gritted his teeth and his nails left some marks on the couch.

"Don't flatter yourself, Miss Lin. I have enough power to know everything about that piece. I'm not holding back on killing you. I just want you to watch your empire crumble into shambles and suffer more."

"Hmmm. Really? You sure you didn't spend your whole life with NOTHING about it?" she pinched her chin before leaning forward, "I bet I'm the first lead you've ever had for all these years."

As Miura Takumi's hands clenched into a tight fist, his palms started bleeding. Her words hit a spot. That unknown piece has been replaying inside his mind for so many years and he'd done countless of things look for it. To no avail.

He didn't like how she had him in his neck, or the fact that his weakness turned out to be a single song he'd only heard once if she didn't come around.

"Fine. Tell me you demands," He gritted his teeth, "Miss Lin."

"I only have two conditions. One, you have to let me go. And two, you have to let HIM go," Miura Takumi followed the direction she was pointing her finger and his eyes landed on the pesky doctor. He furrowed his eyebrows but Zeirenne obliged on enlightening him.

"Just like me... he heard things he was not supposed to hear. And since I'm conscientious enough to express my gratitude for someone who fixed my broken ankles, I'll have to take him with me. There's no way I'm wasting a talent."

There was a stare down between them before Miura Takumi surrendered with a smirk. Zeirenne had to shut him down somehow.

"And... you can't put some 'zeizeis' into the deal."

"Zeizeis? What in the world is that?"

"Hmm. Basically it means you can't be 'smart' on this deal. Like for example I ask you to let me out of here alive. But inside your head you have some 'zeizeis' reserved. So you'd be like..."

Zeirenne buffed her chest out to imitate Miura Takumi's posture and speech. In a deep mocking voice, she said, "You only asked to get out of here alive. Well, guess what? Barely breathing OR barely alive is still alive!"

"Or you can be like..." she cleared her throat to summon more huskiness in her voice. "I'm letting you out of here... but it doesn't mean I'm letting you out in one piece. Hah! -- And THEN you'll fling my decapitated limbs around the air."

Even the most ruthless assassins inside the basement cringed from Zeirenne's example.

"Fine. No 'zeizeis'. You could have just told me we were coining Chinese words. I know 'zei' means deceit... I would have understood you without all those visual examples."

Zeirenne's face lit up with pride, "Oh. It's good that you know your Chinese words and yes that is correct but... there's more to that. I heard uhm... it was named after someone but that's not the point."

She crouched forward to look more intimidating.

"No zeizeis. Deal?" she said while extending a hand out. Miura Takumi leaned forward to accept the offer, "Deal."

When their hands broke off, Zeirenne paraded Jin with a brief glance as if saying, "I told you I got this." He rolled his eyes.

"Since I only have three things to give, this will be short."

"Three? I'm calling this deal off--"

"The title, the music sheet, and the composer. What more can you possibly need? I'll even record myself playing it so you can tire your ears into listening to it over and over again."

Miura Takumi clenched his jaw. "Fine."

"Can somebody please hand me some paper? I'll draw the notes while talking," Willy handed her five sheets of paper, "Thank you. Mr. Willy." To which he bobbed his head.

"First... it's entitled as Aux Diamants. Or to the diamonds," she spared Miura Takumi one glance before continuing, "And it was composed by... drum roll please!"

Willy obliged into adding the sound effects. He used his fingers as percussive instruments against the wall, and she thanked him once again.

Just like Jin, Miura Takumi rolled his eyes. "By whom?" he said, irritation apparent in his voice.

"By me!" Zeirenne beamed with pride, "Yep. I, composed it myself."

"That's impossible."

"Hmmm. I'm guessing you heard this piece twenty years ago and you can't believe the fact that I composed this at four years of age? Well, that's not rather far fetched. Mozart wrote his first composition at age five. It's up to you to believe it or not," she slammed the music sheets down as if she'd just 'dropped the mic.'

"Bonus trivia... I wrote that as an assignment."

. . .

As the sound of her heels clacked on the floor, dozens of employees greeted Zeirenne upon entering ZA International. Different gazes bombarded her strides and she knew something was different.

"Congratulations on getting yourself out, Miss Lin." Dylan said as he walked beside her.

She inhaled a lung full of air, "I didn't like the air I was inhaling for two days. Hmm. I missed this clean breeze."

"You sure did," Dylan said before tapping on his tablet, "But I think you have to see this."

Zeirenne leaned towards the screen. There was another article published online with an attached audio. Dylan handed her some earphones and she pressed the play button to hear her voice playing on repeat.

"I don't give a DAMN on all those people!"

. . .