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Kaz had woken up at 3 in the morning, bolting upright in a cold as she felt a man's skull crack against her own, heard the disgusting gurgling of someone choking on their own blood. The noise had served as a sort of alarm clock for the past four years of her life, never letting her go more than a few hours without remembering what she had done and become. What time was it now? She had no idea. Some unspecified number of hours had passed with her having stared at the wall, the butt of an extinguished cigarette still hanging loosely from the corner of her mouth. She dropped it to the floor where it joined a pile of its brothers, Kaz carelessly sweeping them under her bed with her foot. With a hoarse groan she slipped from the bed and into the bathroom to stare at herself in the mirror. Dull green eyes, lifeless and cloudy with lack of sleep, peered back out at her as she brushed her teeth and combed her hair. Her clothes were next, putting on her uniform and tugging on her boots. One of the duties described in her contract was to "present yourself as befitting an officer of the NSF entrusted with emergency powers to protect the constitution of Japan" so she did, putting on a mask and trying present herself as a functional member of society. Was she ever successful? Who knew. It didn't really matter, routine and structure was all she had.

The next step in the procedure was breakfast. The heels of her boots clacked loudly through the hallways of the NSF headquarters, the foreign born woman towering over nearly everyone she came across. Had she been capable of feeling such a thing anymore she would snickered at the absurdity of it. How desperate was Japan that it needed to pad out the ranks of its elite task force with foreigners and mercenaries like herself? She wasn't even the only one. Chelsea, Tobias, Chris, it was almost comical really, the supposed best and brightest (and one 16 year old boy for fuck's sake) having to rely on a motley crew of people who had no stake in the fight. Any sane person would have resigned by now. Which was why she was still here.

Ignoring the chatter of the canteen Bykov got in the chow line and loaded her tray with enough food to feed two people. As a side effect of the artificial muscle fibers and the huge feats of physical strength she pushed herself into do she was nearly always hungry, snacking constantly to try and feed her metabolism. With a plate full of hashbrowns and scrambled eggs she sought out a place to sit, deciding on the seat across from Takai. She got along well with him, at least as well as she could get along with anyone. She took a seat and gave him and Shumei a nod, spearing a bite of egg on her fork. [color=firebrick]"Good morning. Did you sleep well?"[/color] she asked politely in functional, if stilted, Japanese. She didn't wait for a response before tearing into her meal, looking down at her plate as she ate.

She sensed the presence standing by her before it said anything, electing to ignore it until the baritone "Hey" made her look up. [color=firebrick]"Hey yourself."[/color] she grunted, looking up at Margo. She knew very little about her (him?) and hadn't yet formed an opinion but now she was feeling even less confident in her team as a whole. [color=firebrick]"Perhaps if you need to ask someone to take care of you, you should find another line of work."[/color]    

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Daiyu's routine had already started for the day, the self made multimillionaire have spent the early morning in quiet mediation. Out of all the skills her grandfather had taught her she was most grateful for the ability to quiet her mind. She remembered how'd she pout and whine when he instructed her to sit and relax, grumbling about how stupid it was. Mediation was something only monks and old men practicing Tai Chi in the park did, she wanted to learn to break boards and use swords! And she did, but not before she learned the importance of staying patient and calm. She never would have been able to have gotten as far in life (or even survived) without her daily meditation sessions, taking a few minutes before making any major decision to mull it over.

Today she had been thinking about her life and just how it lead to this point. She was a Chinese national from Hong Kong who had moved to Tokyo, fell into the criminal underworld, created one of the biggest stock brokerage firms in history with funding from the Yakuza, wormed her way into the contact lists and address books of numerous celebrities and politicians and was now a part of a task force dedicated fighting a rogue military unit turned terrorist organization. It read like a bad spy, her daily life a constant balancing act of trying to maintain three distinct identities while juggling updates from legal and illegal business associates. And thanks to that little press conference all of Japan would know if she messed up. The consequences for failure getting killed, or getting arrested and then killed. It was stressful at the best of times and terrifying at the worst.

And she loved it. Daiyu handled billions of dollars ever year, consorted with some of the most powerful men and women in the world, got access to files the government would never let see the light of day. Everyday was exciting whether it was spent handling military grade hardware or defrauding millions or stealing priceless works of art. Well that last one was more of a hobby than a job but still, it was pretty awesome. She was an outsider in a culture that was famously insular, and she had made it recognize her as a force to be reckoned with however grudgingly. Daiyu carried herself proudly as she walked to one of the many training halls, skipping the one with it's red emergency light flashing and one of her comrades rushing into it. That room was the lethal training room, possibly one of the dumbest ideas she had ever heard. What good was practicing with real blades and bullets? If you messed up you died, accomplishing nothing. Not mention the expense of of repairing the damaged and destroyed robots. She had never considered herself a traditionalist but there was such a thing as too much technology.

  
The empty dojo two doors down was much more her speed. Slipping out of her shoes and socks and stepping onto the mat, Daiyu took a wide legged stance. She unsheathed her sword and took a breath, releasing it as she thrust forward. Almost as quickly as the blade was extended she snapped it back, watching her form in one of the full length mirrors that lined the wall. Practical training was good, but it was worthless without reviewing the basics. And review she did, performing all manner of stabs and slashes on invisible opponents.