This is your fault, Polytchi, feel welcome to fix the grammar/spelling.
Seishirou wasn't surprised when Yukko approached him one night. He appreciated that she waited until after he'd finished feeding his last victim to the tree, and was a bit intrigued that she'd come so soon, but had expected her to come eventually.
"You are here about business?"
Yukko nodded, and didn't even seem to notice the blood left from his latest kill, even as the ground soaked it up.
"My part-time worker's name has found it's way to your list of those to kill, haas it not?"
"Yes. You would like to change this?"
Seishirou was certainly amused now. He'd learned not to doubt Yukko-san when it came to business: what she gave you and what you gave her would always be equal, eventually or somehow. What she thought she could pay him to make him disregard someone as a target he would very much like to know.
Yukko seemed to sense his trail of thought, and took a cloth bag from her pocket and handed it to him. "I believe this will be sufficient payment."
Seishirou raised an eyebrow and looked at the bag. It looked like something Hokuto-chan had made, and if he hadn't known Hokuto-chan to be dead, he would've thought she had made it. He opened it by the drawstrings and emptied the contents onto his palm. There were three plushies, handmade, one of Hokuto, one of him, and one of Subaru. He stared at them a minute.
"Did Hokuto make these?" He looked up at Yukko-san, unsure what he thought of this.
"Yes, this will be sufficient."
Yukko nodded. "Good." She turned and left.
Seishirou looked down at the plushies. All of Yukko's payments equaled out, but for some reason he felt like he was being overpaid.
And he didn't know why.