This takes place before my Twisted HiME fic but it can also be considered as an AU with Nao as a gangster. Also if you're sensitive to blood, gore and the like, this may contain some disturbing images.

Nao's Surprise

by Mara S. S.

I was gifted with three heads, each of them placed in a large ornate glass jar.

Yes, heads. Three heads, detached from their bodies.

That particular birthday present had been a surprise, I must admit. The heads were expertly preserved and I marveled that they'd been neatly severed from the neck. The plaques on the jars each carry one of the names I'd burned into my memory long ago.

A closer look at the first jar reveals a middle aged man, his hairline already receding, and his face contorted into an expression of horror. His features are that of an everyday salary man, the kind who'd go to work every morning in his pristine suit, the kind who'd go out with a couple of buddies after work for drinking, and perhaps a bit of companionship. He could have been someone's father, someone's husband, someone's lover.

Except, I knew better than that.

The second jar holds a younger person's head suspended in the preserving liquid. His unbound hair floats freely around his face, giving the impression of a particularly gruesome looking troll. This face was arrogant, swarthy, like a frog who'd croak at anytime. He was the class bully type, with no brain and too much muscles for his own good. He was the kind who'd steal kids lunch money. He was the kind who'd want to get rich without any effort at all.

That, I knew for sure.

The third is of an indeterminate age, but his expression is one of terrible fear. You can see the whites of his eyes, his mouth was wrenched open in a silent scream, a scream that would last for all eternity.

Maybe the fear was because he was the last of the three to die, and thus could see the fate that would befall him. I hoped so. I hoped at least one of them had known what was coming, though I doubted any of them were told the reason why. I doubted any of them were thinking at that time of a certain crime they'd committed years ago.

I wondered idly how they'd died. Their heads could have been chopped off, or they could have been killed in another manner first.

I hoped it was the former. They didn't deserve a quick death. None of them did. I laughed at their unseeing faces, laughed at their helplessness now. I turned one jar over, shook it then set it back down, watching in morbid fascination as the body-less head drifted aimlessly in its preserving fluid. It was like a pretty bubble in a lava lamp.

This particular present was given to me on my sixteenth birthday. I'd been with the yakuza, the Japanese mob, only less than two years at the time, but I'd already transformed them from the leaderless group they'd been after the Obsidian Lord's slaughter, into a cohesive force that could slip through the current government's intense scrutiny.

I'd also done what no oyabun, no godfather before me had ever managed to accomplish. I gained mastery over the other similarly leaderless gangs abroad. The Chinese triads, the American Mafia, the Corsican mobs, all of them worked under me to destabilize the government and turn a tidy profit along the way.

The yakuza owed me big time, and I made sure each of them knew it. To show their appreciation, several of the gang leaders conspired to deliver the three heads to me on a silver platter. It seems they found that these three men had made a plea deal with the new government and were freed from imprisonment. My gangsters obligingly hunted the men down for me since I wasn't in Japan at that time and then presented the heads to me as their birthday gift. That was really sweet of them, don't you think?

We celebrated my birthday with a grand dinner that everyone who was anyone attended. The foreign mobs even sent their own representatives to convey their respects to me. It was quite a change for me since I'd never bothered to celebrate birthdays before. I usually spent them at Mama's side, talking to her. Even though I knew a person in a coma can't hear, I still did it anyway.

Since the dinner was held in my honor, I wore a kimono the Old Man's wife lent me. I usually prefer to wear less restrictive clothing, but it's not everyday a young girl gets to hold court for a roomful of gangsters. It's not everyday she gets to have each of those gangsters fawning over her and jostling for her attention. Not that they didn't act like obedient puppies most of the time though. Men are such morons. They're easily misled by the demure smile and the soft voice that they never see the claws of the little kitty.

I'm sure the three now headless murderers never saw these claws. The three robbers looking to swipe a little money had chosen my house and by the time I returned, only Mama was left, alive but in a coma. I hated them for it, hated them for ruining my life. I'd been bounced from one orphanage to another, people with fake smiles patting me on the head and telling me everything would be okay. I'd just wanted to scream. Of course it wasn't okay!

On the day I received the scholarship from Fuuka, I went to tell Mama the good news. It was then I found they'd be pulling the plug on her, the hopeless charity case. I cast dignity aside that night and begged the doctors to keep Mama alive. There I was, pleading for my mother's life, while the three men who killed my family ate three meals a day and slept peacefully in jail. It wasn't fair!

It was that night I met and accepted my Child, Julia. It was that night I began catching my prey on the streets of Fuuka City. It was that night I took on the responsibility of keeping Mama alive. It was that night I swore in my heart my family would be avenged.

And here I am now, one of the leading godfathers in the mafia, with my three heads sitting on my desk staring blankly at me. I turn the middle one over onto its side and roll it from one end of my desk to the other, like a child playing with a ball. The liquid inside sloshes from side to side and I watch the head floating around in it.

They're dead now, the three robbers, the three murderers who wrecked my life. The many nights I'd been out on the streets the thought of killing those three lit warm fires in my heart and kept me from going insane. But now…

My eyes narrow and I give the jar rolling on my desk a violent shove. It falls of my desk and shatters on the floor, soaking the expensive carpet. I pick the head up by its hair, ignoring the slime I'm getting all over my hands. I can feel the frustration starting to build inside so I hit the face as hard as I can with my other hand.

It doesn't react. No apology, no explanation for the robbery and murder committed years and years ago. Nothing. I drop the impassive head and swipe viciously at the other jar nearest to me. It too falls to the ground, shattering with a sickening crunch.

Revenge should have been sweet. I've dreamt of it for so long. Killing those who killed my family and left my mother in a coma. Looking into their eyes and laughing at their fear. Hearing them beg and plead and pray for mercy. Seeing the hope rise in their eyes as I pretend to let them live so I can turn around and have the pleasure of dashing their hopes, as my own hopes were destroyed so many times before. Seeing their helplessness to end their torment. Seeing their pain, my suffering reflected in their own and repaid a thousand fold.

My hands clench into fists pressed against the wood of my desk as if I could bore a hole through it with sheer force of will. I stand over my desk, my head bowed, my fallen hair shielding me from the world, and the tears starting to form behind my eyes.

I wanted…

I wanted Mama back.

I wanted my family, my life to be whole again.

In one swift motion, I pull out the gun hidden at the small of my back and shoot the remaining head smirking at me from its jar. I shoot until I use up all my bullets. The last head is full of holes now; gooey liquid and glass shards litter my desk.

I scream in frustration, scream at the empty hollow feeling I can feel inside me. I'd always thought I would be rejoicing when this day came. I always thought this would be an occasion to celebrate, the day I could finally lay old ghosts to rest, the day I could finally forget all the pain I'd received in the past because of those three.

Mama… I've avenged you now.

But why….

Why…

Tell me why…

Why does revenge taste so bitter?

END

Disclaimer: Mai HiME belongs to Sunrise