Author's note : To celebrate the end of my sorrow this semester. Thanks for your support all this time!
Mireille sighed, her hand holding a cup of warm coffee.
It was quite an adventure today.
Since Mireille didn't complete the task and brought the unconscious girl along with her instead, it wasn't a good idea to escape to Paris using the service her client provided.
So now there they were, in a nice small inn somewhere in Taiwan.
Mireille really asked herself why the hell she didn't kill the girl and even worse, why she decided on this place anyway. The mission against Shao Li wasn't really a pleasure.
Even if the girl looked so much like Kirika, there was no way she was Kirika. Kirika was gone. Gone! Mireille was there as she died. Mireille held her hand the whole time. She saw how the rest of life left Kirika, she saw her closing her eyes forever, it couldn't be Kirika, no way!
Mireille took a deep breath. She didn't really say all the things above out loudly, but it costed her some energy even to think about it. That might be an example of the act called "thinking out loud".
For the tenth time that day Mireille looked at the girl to examine her carefully.
The girl really had the same face like Kirika had, there's no doubt. Except if Mireille's memories about Kirika already faded away, so that she would recognize every cute, slim high school girl with short haircut and no glasses as Kirika.
If Mireille didn't know better than that, she would arrange someone to open up Kirika's grave to see if Kirika, well, came back to life, in one or other mysterious ways.
At this point Mireille really realized how much she wished Kirika to come back from the dead. She wanted Kirika to come back and fill the hole she left in Mireille's life as she died.
Other than that, Mireille asked herself if she hurt the girl accidentally as she knocked her out. It was unusual that the girl stayed unconscious for 13 hours now.
The doctor who came yesterday told her that there's nothing wrong with the girl. There's no blood, no broken bones or anything else. The reason for her unconsciousness might be a deep shock or a traumatic experience. As the doctor questioned her on this topic, Mireille lied and said she didn't know. It was already strange enough that a European girl took care of an Asian girl. A confession that this European girl just murdered the Asian girl's parents, and therefore gave the daughter a traumatic experience would bring her to jail for three days folowed by an execution.
To ensure the doctor that she wasn't kidnapping the girl, she showed her the only photo she ever made with Kirika. In the picture Kirika was smiling – a good sign. A kidnapped girl wouldn't smile that happily. And since the doctor believed her, Mireille stopped thinking that she was hallucinating all the time. The girl really did resemble Kirika. No doubt anymore.
Then the girl moved slightly.
Mireille was so surprised that she jumped off her chair.
Slowly the girl opened her eyes. At first she didn't really remember what happened. She stared at Mireille unknowingly. Slowly, the sight of Mireille holding a gun and her parents lying on the ground with some blood on their clothes passed before her eyes and she screamed again.
Again, Mireille rushed forward and put her hand on the girl mouth.
"Mmmm! Mmm..mmmmmh!" mumbled the girl desperately under tears.
"Be quiet, will you? I am not going to hurt you, but I will have to if you can't be silent!" whispered Mireille in panic.
But the girl continued mumbling and struggling in tears. Mireille couldn't help to think what she would do if the girl really was Kirika.
Then she embraced the girl tightly. The girl stopped crying out of a sudden, perhaps because she didn't expect to be hugged by her parents' murderer. Whatever the reason was, it was enough to give Mireille some time to go to the door afterwards to clear the curiosity of the inn owner by explaining that her "girlfriend" was having some post-traumatic stress reactions and that she already settled down by now.
Mireille smiled uneasily to the inn owner. After she closed the door her expression changed abruptly. She really didn't know what to do now.
Slowly she turned around to face the girl. And the girl was gone. She was at the window sill, trying to escape through the window.
"Heyy!" yelled Mireille, fully aware that a "Heyy!" didn't belong to a post-traumatic stress reaction.
She pulled the girl away from the window sill. Typical Kirika, she thought as she forced the girl to go back to the bed. Traumatic experiences here and there, Kirika could always recover in count of minutes.
"Just stay here and don't do anything will you? If I wanted you to get lost I would leave you on the street and fly back to Paris!" exclaimed Mireille angrily.
The girl yelled back at her, using some unfamiliar words. Japanese. Mireille couldn't speak Japanese. She would have to count on her luck. Perhaps the girl had Kirika's talent in languages.
"I'm sorry?" asked Mireille in english.
"You killed my parents!" yelled the girl back in english.
That's great. At least they could communicate.
But now Mireille really didn't know what to say.
She killed her parents, after all. She really did.
Mireille walked to the chair and dropped herself on it. She sat face to face with the girl cowering on the bed.
"I did. I killed your parents." stated Mireille.
"Why? Why did you kill my parents!" yelled the girl again.
Mireille sighed and pulled out some documents out of her luggage. She spreaded the photos and papers on the table.
"I am a hired assassin. I receive tasks to kill people in exchange for money. As much as I am informed, you also know that somebody wants your parents to die, don't you?"
"But that doesn't give you the right to kill anyone!"
Mireille stood up so suddenly that the girl bumped to the wall behind her in an attempt to run away from Mireille.
"My job is not to grant people lives. It is to kill people.
My apologies, but everyone has family and people. If my clients want to kill people who has noone, they won't hire me, is it clear? After all, noone wants to stain their hands with blood!"
Mireille walked to the door and slammed the door behind her as she walked out.
Ten, twenty seconds, and the girl still sat in shock on the bed. She couldn't forgive the blond girl for killing her parents, but all what she said was true.
But the blond girl killed her parents!
She couldn't forgive herself for ever pitying the blond girl.
It was a person named Henry Chestley. Tears ran down her cheek. It was only two days ago that her parents told her someone might want to kill them, so that she had to be careful.
Her parents were nice people. She didn't ask further what might drive the Mr. Chestley to go that far, but she was sure whatever it was, her parents didn't do anything wrong. She trusted her parents to death.
And yet, there must be a reason why her parents were killed. The reason was hidden somewhere among the pile of papers and photos on the table.
The girl's hands and knees shook badly as she forced herself to get off the bed and walked to the table.
She needed to know it…. she really did.
Mireille couldn't believe she just had a hot word-war with a girl concerning her job.
To kill people was never a holy act. She never said that as well.
She had the ability to kill people effectively and therefore she used it to earn her living, but she was never proud of herself. After all, her whole family was killed as well. She would never see killing as a job to be proud of. It didn't help to see it from a religious side as well. Killing was a sin.
Even if she was aware of all that, noone had ever criticized her upon her job. Part of the people who dealed with her gave her tasks and paid her for her job. The other part didn't really have time to state their opinion because they all died too quickly. The rest were her few friends, who didn't talk much about this topic.
Shortly said, this girl was the first person from whom she had to defend herself like that. In a wrong way, but she felt the urge to defend herself. Her job. Her life. Her living.
After Mireille calmed herself she remembered in terror that she left the girl alone in the bedroom, and she might get lost if she managed to run away. And so she went back inside the inn in hurry, ran up the stairs and pushed the door open.
Author's note again : Don't you think I am better with the whole details now? I am pretty proud of myself. That means it will be a very very long story. Don't despair. It's on me to think about what to write here, lol.