Standing over her kneeling opponent at the center of the empty dance floor of the House of Blue Leaves nightclub and staring intently into her enemy's eyes, Gogo Yubari knew she had won. All she had to do now was maintain tension on the chain around her adversary's neck for a few moments more and this tall, blonde, American woman who called herself the Black Mamba – and who had dared to threaten Gogo's mistress, O-Ren Ishii – would be dead.

As she stood firmly holding the chain and waiting for the Mamba to lose consciousness and die, Gogo could feel O-Ren's eyes upon her, from her vantage point high on the second floor landing behind her. And although she knew the discipline of her training demanded that she keep her attention focused on her enemy, Gogo felt a strong urge to turn her head, to see the look of approval that was surely upon her mentor's face, and to show O-Ren the sureness and confidence on her own face.

Gogo took great pride in the total trust and confidence O-Ren placed in her. It was the thing, above all else, that gave her life meaning and purpose. It had been a long road getting to this point, from bedraggled street waif to consummate warrior, but O-Ren had been there to guide and encourage her every step of the way. And now, she was O-Ren's hand-picked personal bodyguard, the great warlord's last line of defense against her enemies, and the envy of all the other ambitious members of O-Ren's elite band of warriors, the Crazy 88—

Suddenly, her brief reverie was broken and her attention abruptly wrenched back to the present as her adversary's right arm sprang into motion, snatching something from the floor and swinging it toward Gogo's left leg. Gogo felt a sudden, sharp, excruciating pain in her left foot. She threw her head back and screamed in agony.

Then she felt a terrible, jolting impact on the side of her head, at her left temple.

And then…everything stopped. All motion and sound around her abruptly ceased, as though someone had hit the pause button on a video clip. As she stood helplessly frozen in place, immersed in the eerie silence, she could see a long, wooden object – a detached table leg, she thought – extended into her field of view from close by the left side of her head. She could see the Black Mamba's fingers holding that leg, and beyond that her arm and even her face, with a frozen expression of determination mixed with desperation. But everything was frozen in place, like a still frame of film. Nothing was moving.

As Gogo stood, unable to move, trying to make sense of what was happening, she became aware of a single point of movement within her otherwise completely motionless surroundings. From out of the shadowy recesses beyond the edge of the dance floor, a small figure was walking toward her. The sound of soft footsteps broke the silence around her. As the figure came closer, Gogo saw that it was a young girl, maybe ten or eleven years old. And something about the girl seemed…familiar, so very familiar…

Gogo gasped in recognition. Could it be? "Yuki?" she whispered. "My sister?"

But it couldn't be! Although it had been years since Gogo had last seen her younger sister, the fact remained that Yuki was only two years younger than Gogo. She would be fifteen now. This young girl standing before her couldn't possibly be Yuki. And yet…that young face looked so hauntingly familiar…

The young girl spoke to Gogo, with a voice of such centered calmness and serenity as to belie her apparently tender years. "No, I am not Yuki. I imagine a combination of family resemblance and your own faded memory is confusing you." The girl's face lit up with a broad smile. "We did much resemble our younger sister, though, didn't we? Especially at this age."

"Who are you? What's going on here?" Gogo demanded.

"Try to be calm, Kyoko," the girl said soothingly. "Everything is going to be all right."

Gogo bristled at the mention of the name she had long ago abandoned. "My name is Gogo!"

The younger girl shook her head. "No. Our name is Kyoko. You tried to kill the part of you that is me when you became Gogo, but a part of me still lives in your heart. I know it does. You wouldn't be seeing me now if it were not true."

Gogo stared hard at the girl. "What is this? Why can't I move? What's going on?"

"You're dying, Kyoko," the young girl answered softly. "This blonde woman has killed you."

"No!" Gogo shouted. "I had won!"

"Yes," the young girl agreed. "You had! But you let your attention stray, just for a moment. You allowed yourself to be distracted by your desire for O-Ren Ishii's approval. And now this blonde woman has killed you."

"No," Gogo cried. "I can't die! I have to protect O-Ren!"

The young girl shrugged. "Before this night is finished, O-Ren Ishii will also reach the end of her journey, just as you have."

"Nooo!" Gogo wailed.

The young girl shook her head sadly. "I don't understand why it upsets you so. What has O-Ren Ishii ever done for you?"

Gogo bristled again. "She has done everything for me! She is my savior!"

"Your savior," the young girl repeated, her voice filled with pity. "You think O-Ren has saved you."

"Yes."

"From the streets. Took you in? Gave you a home? A life?"

"Yes!"

The young girl shook her head again. "No," she said, and now there was an undercurrent of anger in her voice. "She has done nothing but use you. You give thanks to her for everything you have, everything you are. But look at what you're thanking her for. Look at what you have. Look at what you've become. She has done nothing except facilitate your descent into a living hell."

"No! You don't know her!"

The young girl's anger faded, and her gentleness returned. "I didn't mean to upset you, Kyoko," she said softly. "And I don't mean to be too harsh on O-Ren, either. I know she has been scarred by her own past just as we have by ours. And I also didn't mean to imply that you were just a pawn to her, because that's not true. To the extent that she is capable of it, she does care about you. But look at the results, Kyoko. Look at what she's made of you. Look at the terrible things you've done on her behalf."

Gogo felt fear rising into her throat. "I have done terrible things," she admitted. "I've killed many people."

"Yes," said the young girl.

Gogo looked at her with fear in her eyes. "Is there a Hell? Am I going to Hell?"

The young girl smiled at her in a way that immediately diminished her fear. "It's not that simple, Kyoko," she said. "You have done terrible things, but you've also had terrible things done to you."

Gogo gave a short, mirthless bark of a laugh. "Ha! What is it they say? 'Two wrongs don't make a right'?"

"Those are measurements on a human scale," the girl replied. "You're about to pass beyond that. And besides, you're not the only one facing judgment today. I'm part of your soul too. What kind of judgment do you think I deserve?" The girl smiled again, and her eyes twinkled. "After all, I'm as innocent as a lamb!"

Gogo became aware of returning motion around her. She saw the Black Mamba's fingers slowly – very slowly – release their grip on the table leg lodged against her skull. She sensed herself falling – very, very slowly – toward the floor. She peered into the younger girl's eyes. "I'm afraid," she whispered.

The young girl reached out her hand to touch Gogo's cheek, moving with her, comforting her as she slowly, slowly fell. "It's all right, Kyoko," she whispered. "It's all right. The nightmare is almost over. No more pain. We can rest now."

And then, after what seemed an eternity of falling, Gogo's body finally hit the floor. The weight of the table leg, its three long nails still lodged in her skull, twisted her head to the left. It was the last physical sensation she would ever experience. Her surroundings turned a brilliant white for a moment and then went dark.

And in the darkness, Gogo once again heard the voice of her younger self, as though it were coming from inside her own head. "It's over, Kyoko. Now, come with me! There's something I want to show you!"