For my mother, my heroine, the strongest and most beautiful woman on Earth. It doesn't matter that you don't know enough English to read this or the fact that I write fanfictions, I just want to say that I feel very lucky to be your daughter, I love you and I'll try my hardest to be the best daughter to you.
[Beauty]
The girl peered up at her, a mixture of love and fear in her eyes.
The young woman didn't return the glance. She turned her back to the girl as she stacked up the dishes, then her hand paused when the younger one reached out to help her, the flawless hands shaking slightly. Her ash blonde hair was straight and thick, just long enough to touch her shoulder blades, and the eyes were dark ambers set in ivory skin. Her lips were thin and pale, her eyebrows perfect arches that decorated her eyes. Everything about her was beautiful. It was this very fact that made the young woman unable to look at her. She constantly tells herself there was no fault in the girl, that she made the choice for life to be this way but -
She couldn't look at the girl in the eyes. It pained her too much to do it.
And the girl seemed to know. Neglect? Abandonment? Isolation? She felt none of it, even though the woman hadn't been able to look straight at her all these years, the years since her beauty started to surface. The girl seemed to remember the time before that, when she was still a child to be carried in arms, she remembered those days when the woman would sing to her whilst rocking her in the arms gently. Like most mothers would. The woman still took care of her when she was sick, dabbed dry the sweating forehead, brought her to the doctor. The woman still took her to interesting places, laughed when the girl say something that happened in school or a joke she had heard. The woman loved her, oh yes, but she just didn't look at her.
'Mama... let me do it for you.'
The young woman nodded. She walked out of the kitchen, and watched the girl do the cleaning up, the face hidden by the long hair.
She smiled.
Youji keyed the cash flow of Koneko no Sumu Ie into the computer, fingers punching on the numbers like there was no tomorrow.
'That's in no hurry of being completed, Youji-kun.' Omi watered the plants routinely, humming a tune as he did so. It had been something that Youji had sung for an entire day and now Omi couldn't get it out of his head. Ran was to blame, if he didn't lend his CD to Youji and got Youji addicted to the song, Omi wouldn't be spending his day humming 'zutto futari de'.
'I know, but I'm being bored out of my mind here. By the way, that's the cacti you're watering.'
Omi looked down. 'Oh damn.' Three cacti sitting in different pots had just received enough water to last ten years.
'You know what I'm in need of, Omi?' Youji abandoned the computer and started doodling on a scrap piece of paper.
'What?'
'A gorgeous woman...' Youji looked up when he heard the familiar footstep pattern, then got up on his feet. 'Like the one about to come in here.'
He opened the door just in time for Birman to walk straight in. Her black hair was let down, contrasting her crisp white blouse and cream suit. Youji attempted to embrace her, but was brushed off with a sway of the hand and a smile.
'Ah. Give me a chance, sweetheart.'
'Not in a million years.' Birman laughed when she saw Youji's doodles of a super deformed character with a soccer ball and has written next to it, Ken2. 'Where're the others?'
'Any questions?'
Youji turned around from his place on the couch and looked at Birman with puppy eyes. 'Please? Consider me?'
The request was ignored by Birman, and she decided her job was done when Ran continued to drink his coffee and Omi and Ken shook their heads. 'How much of that do you drink a day, Aya?'
Ran blinked, realising he was being asked a question. '... Don't know.'
'Too much caffeine is bad for your health.'
'Which, in turn, is bad news for you and Persia?' Ran narrowed his eyes. Even if Birman said that out of good intention, he didn't want his personal life, including what he ate and drank, to be controlled or questioned by those who were not his friends. Birman didn't count as his friend, no matter how much she reminded him of Aya. He never felt that he could like her. It was only that first day, so long ago, that she did make him think of his sister. But Aya was purity; Birman was not. Ran would not doubt that she killed, just like them. 'Stay out of my life.'
Stung by Ran's reply, Birman pretended it didn't matter and left the young men alone.
'Hey hey Aya,' Youji got up from where he sat and squeezed into the single-person couch where Ran was. Ran nearly spilled his coffee. 'Try not to be so harsh on her, you know?'
Ken walked up behind them and rested his arms on the back of the couch. His bangs were falling into his eyes again but he didn't want to trim them. 'But it's quite hard to have compassion for somebody when you know nothing about them. At least I think so, anyway.'
Omi had already started working on his computer. He didn't look back as he commented. 'Youji-kun's just saying that coz he's hitting on her. Come on, guys, let's get things started.'
The rusted chains squeaked. The young woman noted that the forward squeak was different from the backward squeak, and she wrapped her fingers harder around the cold metal as she swung back and forth. The squeakings formed a pattern. The girl's swing sounded different from hers and when the girl started the swinging, the pattern became a song with only four repeated notes.
'Mama, you look sad.'
The young woman took one quick glance at the girl, avoiding to look at her full in the face. The soft hair was clipped up in a fancy way, she did it for her because she asked her to. It made the girl's face too visible and the young woman didn't want to see it.
'I'm fine.'
It would be over soon. All of it. The burden would be taken off, the lock discarded soon. The woman wished it could happen earlier, but she had no control over it.
'It's raining, mama.'
She looked up. It was. A light shower of water falling onto them. The world wanted to be cleansed, too.
'Let's go home, or you'll catch a cold.' She got off the swing. The girl hopped off hers and followed the woman. The palms of their hands met, their fingers entwined.
They both felt how warm each other's hand was.
'Bah, so how are we going to do it?' Ken stretched his legs out on the carpet. His white socks matched the perfect whiteness of Omi's bed sheets.
Omi rolled his eyes and thought for a moment. 'It'll be the easiest when he's in his home.'
'But has he got family? There might be children in the house.' Youji was scribbling on a small notebook about the things they had discussed. It was a spider diagram with the target's name in the middle. One of the branches said 'location: home: children'.
'He hasn't.' From his place on the windowsill, Ran spoke, his eyes fixed on the window. No one knew if he was looking at the reflection or the world outside. 'I didn't see any today.'
Youji crossed out 'children' on his chart. 'As usual, our trustworthy friend had went and looked around for us. Thanks, Aya.' He ticked that branch in the chart, and went for the next one. 'Time?'
'He looks like the type that doesn't go home until three am.' Ken wriggled his toes. 'Perhaps he doesn't even go home all that often.'
'Or he may have company. And all witnesses have to go.' Youji frowned, flicking the end of the pen, knocking his forehead. What a nuisance. The data did say something about rather complicated relationships with many women. He had even been charged for rape several times, though the court had always ruled in his favour. If the man happened to bring a woman home the day they get him, it would be disastrous.
'Are you saying that we'll just have to spy on him and find a day that he doesn't have company?'
'Bingo. And we take turns to do it. Since Aya's done his turn, I'll start tomorrow. Or we can do it in pairs.'
'Man, I hate it when the night things have to mess with the day things.'
Ran turned his head when he heard what Ken said. Youji spoke at the same time. 'Ken, there's no night and day. We aren't just assassins at night. Persia, Manx, Birman, the Kritiker, Crashers... we're all in this. Assassins, from start to finish.'
'Until death.' Ran concluded. There was no end to this. His lavender eyes found Youji's emerald ones, and he saw in them recognition of what he just said. It felt as though he had earned an approval. He got off the windowsill and took the place on the carpet beside Youji, and felt the older man wrap an arm around his shoulders.
'Time you join us down here, precious.' Youji grinned, trying to lift the heavy atmosphere they had created for Ken and Omi.
Ran saw the grin, and he smiled.
Youji and Ran rested against the concrete column as their takeaway meals were being prepared. They had watched the target for the whole day and hadn't eaten anything. Ran stared up at the security camera and the little black and white screen at the corner of the ceiling, and who he saw were two worn-out young men waiting for their first meal of the day. Youji took off his shades and he glanced up once, without moving his head.
He heard the footsteps and looked again. A young woman, holding the hand of a beautiful child around eight years old, just walked into the Chinese restaurant. 'Mama, can I please have sweet and sour chicken? The one you got me last time?'
The woman smiled and nodded. She walked over with the girl to make her order.
She didn't notice the two young men looking at her until she turned around. Green and violet eyes studied her and the child. She froze.
Youji smiled genuinely and shrugged whilst putting his sunglasses back on. Ran simply nodded then looked away again.
The girl tucked at her sleeve. 'How long do we have to wait, mama?'
'... I don't know.'
The two men got their meals and left. The young woman watched them leave.
Not a word passed between them until they reached their apartment complex. 'You recognised that girl's face?'
'Hm.' Ran climbed up three flights of stairs with Youji and waited as Youji opened the door to his home. 'They look so alike.'
'Product of the same DNA, definitely. But...' Youji started preparing coffee as Ran sank himself down into the couch. 'The target's child? And the mother... It's hard to believe. Imagine, this mission...'
Ran tilted his head back into the couch and closed his eyes, his body finally relaxing from a full day of tension. '... It'll be okay.'
Youji poured the takeout onto plates then put them in the microwave oven. Seafood chow-mien and roast pork spun in the yellow light as it heated. He wanted to drop off to sleep, but his stomach wouldn't let him. Him and Ran dug into their food when it was ready, just wanting to get the eating over and done with so that they could rest. The coffee was still steaming itself in the kitchenette.
'Good that Ken and Omi weren't with us.'
Ran peeked up at Youji from between his red bangs. '... Hm.' Ken and Omi wouldn't need to know about this.
They fell asleep on the couches straight after finishing their coffee.
'You bastard! How can you say that to me?'
'Why should I care? Get rid of it or give it up for adoption or something. And I don't want this kind of conversation outside my house, so leave here right now or I'll call my security.'
Ken shook his head as he watched this scene from where he hid. He could hear in his earphones Youji's sigh at the other hiding spot. 'Men like this makes me feel ashamed of my own gender.'
'Balinese, remember at the Chinese restaurant?' Ran whispered to his mouthpiece, his eyes following the shorthaired pregnant girl as she ran away in tears. 'Is this...'
'No, she'd have been cooler than this. Tough woman.'
'What're you two talking about? Cut it out, the target's gone inside his home already. About time to move.'
The eldest member of Weiß caught sight of a lone young woman across the street, watching them, as they stole their way into the house through a picked-open window. She held herself around the waist. The woman's eyes flashed once in the darkness, then she melted into the shadows. Youji smiled to himself, wondering if she and her daughter enjoyed the Chinese food the other night. 'Abyssinian, look.' He tilted his head towards the woman once before getting into the house after Ken. Ran paused, a hand on the window and a foot on the sill. He saw the woman too.
'Told you. She's tough.'
Remembering the way the woman held her daughter's hand, and the daughter's striking resemblance of their target, Ran pressed his lips tightly together, and his eyes narrowed.
Just before he shut the window, he thought he saw the woman tremble.
Youji suggested that Ken and Omi should go home. Him and Ran had something to do.
It was the way Ran bit his lips, or maybe it was the way Youji pulled off his sunglasses and pocketed them, Ken didn't feel it was right to ask. It was something that was better for him not to know. He nodded once and left with Omi, not bothering to look back because he knew the two wouldn't move until him and Omi were well out of sight.
The young woman stood affixed to the ground. Across the silent street, Youji held a cigarette between his lips, and shielded his lighter with a hand as he lit it, taking in a long drag. He turned away from Ran to puff out the smoke. When they could no longer hear Ken's motorcycle, they stepped off the pavement, crossed the stretch of road that divided them, and came up to her. Their steps were soundless.
'He's dead.'
Youji wanted to hold her still. The young woman was still holding herself around her waist, and she was shaking. But it didn't feel right to touch her. 'He's dead.'
'... Who did it?' Her large eyes looked up at the two of them. 'Was it you, Abyssinian?'
'Yes.' Ran paused for a little moment, then added, '... So don't worry anymore.' He didn't hate her, no. Ran realised that he didn't hate her.
'It's all over.' She mumbled to herself. 'Finally...'
Eternity seemed to have passed before the woman straightened her back and started walking away.
'... Birman,' Hesitantly, Youji called. 'Where're you going?'
'Home.' The woman said, without turning back. 'To her.'
The girl stared at the young woman as she studied her school report. She had waited the entire night until the woman came back, not caring if she would be told off for staying up so late. 'I got an "A" for music, mama. They say my violin is good and I can do the grade 5 test soon. They want me to perform in the next school concert.'
The woman just smiled, picked up a fountain pen and signed on the report with the blue ink.
'Aren't you going to ask me if I want to go and hear you play?'
It took a few seconds for the girl to understand those words. 'You're going to hear me play, mama?'
The woman's eyes were wet when she studied the girl's face. Such simple things could make her happy. This little beauty was her daughter. With her palm, she felt the girl's face. He is dead, he is dead. She found the strength to look at the girl, finally, and to love that beautiful, beautiful face. 'I am. I'm so proud of you.'
'Why don't I play for you now? I'll do a personal concert for you!' The girl leaped up in joy. Her ash blonde ponytail bounced up and down as she ran to get her violin. The neighbourhood may complain later about playing music at this hour, but for now, nothing mattered.
When the music ended, the woman held the girl in her arms. There was so much she wanted to say, but her gesture said it all.
'I love you too, mama.'
When the woman turned the corner and they could see her no more, they turned to leave, too. Everything was silent except for the quiet steps and occasionally a clang of the metal in Ran's hands. Youji tossed the cigarette butt into a gutter, and emeralds set on amethysts as he observed the change in his companion.
'What is it, Aya?'
'... Perhaps I don't mind doing this until death.'
'... Same here.'
[end]