Snug as a Bug
(1)
~*O*~
Deep in the heart of the sprawling expanse of the city, with neon lights and screeching cars, rested the downtown slums. Like a festering sore, it was here that the hopeless and the sick came to rot, to live out there days scavenging in grungy dumpsters. As PruCan slowly made her way through the narrow streets, filth ridden individuals brushing her shoulders and arms what felt like every few seconds, she desperately wished for a bar of soap.
When was the last time any of these guys have had a bath? she wondered, descending into a pensive state of pity and disgust. Her arms tingled unpleasantly where the grim of the crack ships rested. They all look half starved. Americest can't go four hours without complaining about how famished he was; I'd like to see him camp out here for the night.
When she felt yet another hand brush up against her, she cringed. When she felt a grimy paw reach and squeeze her ass, she yelped and tore through the crowded street crazily, not caring how many people she barreled in to.
Ducking into a grungy alleyway, PruCan paused to catch her breath. A rat or two scurried across her brand new boots, but she found herself too frazzled to care. There's a reason people like me don't come down here, she thought frantically, wishing for her big brother Germancest. He may scare the bejeezus out of her, but the good part was that he scared the bajeezus out of everybody.
In the next moment she barely bit back a scream when she felt a calloused hand grasp her shoulder. Another hand smacked over her mouth, knocking her glasses askew. This time she really did scream, thrashing wildly to escape back into the bustling street.
"Shut up, Prue, it's me."
PruCan visibly relaxed at the sound of the familiar voice, slumping against the wall. Blood was pounding in her ears. "Dammit Ruse, you n-nearly gave me a heart attack."
Rusame smiled sympathetically, patting her friend's shoulder. "You were taking so long; I thought you had gotten lost."
"Y-yeah, I al-almost did." She eyed her travel worn friend up and down, noting that she looked nothing how PruCan felt. That being nauseated, tired, and sick, all meshing together with a thick wad of pity. "Christ, how can you even smile like that after walking around a place like this? I feel like I'm about to puke. And somebody groped me!"
"It's not a day downtown unless you've been groped at least twice," remarked Rusame with unsettling casualness. "You kinda get used to it."
A thick sense of shame and guilt welded up in PruCan's throat, trembling subsiding as she reached for her friend. "I'm sorry, Ruse. God, I feel like an idiot—"
"Don't," said Rusame firmly. She looked like she wanted to say more, but instead steeled her gaze and took PruCan's hand into her own. "Let's get out of here; we're late enough as it is."
They ventured further into the alleyway, getting further and further away from the bustling streets. It grew deathly quiet, and PruCan could vaguely taste the salt of the ocean in the air. They took a few more sharp turns before winding up by a deserted warehouse district. Releasing the grip of her friend, Rusame fished out a pink cellphone in her pocket and flipped it open.
"Warehouse 13-B, right?" she murmured, taking a few steps to the right. She nodded in affirmation. "Yup, this is the place." PruCan glanced down at the message, the one that Rusame received nearly two days ago, almost a week after they had formed an alliance; a picture of a warehouse, a date and time, and a message that read:
12 o'clock sharp. Try not 2 be late.
It was from an unknown number, and Rusame hardly had an idea of how to track it. She sent multiple messages in return, (Who is this? How did you get my number? Answer me, asshole!) but to no avail. Flipping the phone shut, Rusame felt the familiar sense of itching annoyance as she reviewed the message in her mind. Try not to be late? Jackass.
She checked her watch.
"12:15," she sighed. "We're late."
"You think they're still here?"
"If they can't wait fifteen extra minutes, then it isn't important enough discussing to begin with and we've wasted our time." Rusame turned to PruCan. "Head on inside. I'll check the perimeter for stragglers. You armed?"
PruCan nodded, fishing out a small army knife from her pocket. Rusame crinkled her nose, and PruCan shrugged. "Well, it's no naginata, but I couldn't very well fit that in my pocket."
Quirking a brow, Rusame pulled out her own weapon. PruCan balked, backtracking in shock.
"A gunblade? Ruse, how the hell do you smuggle in a gunblade?"
Rusame shrugged before bringing the weapon closer for inspection. "You live in the slums long enough you learn to hide things in interesting places." PruCan visibly balked, and looked like she wanted to press for details, but Rusame was already heading in the other direction. "C'mon, Prue, we've wasted enough time. Break the lock and head inside, I'll meet you there."
She turned the corner and vanished from sight. Quickly becoming unnerved at being alone once again, PruCan crouched down and swiftly undid the padlock with her Swiss army knife. Gotta remember to thank SwitzLiech for this, she thought, tucking the knife into her back pocket. Wrenching the doors open, she quickly flitted inside and slammed them shut behind her, throwing her into darkness.
Swallowing a thick wad of saliva, PruCan whipped out her phone to use as a flashlight. The interior on the inside match though of outside: abandoned, grungy, and entirely empty. She wondered what sort of person would want to meet up in a place like this. If it were her she'd have met up in a nice restaurant.
After making sure the place was well and truly empty, PruCan took a seat near the back entrance and waited for her friend to return. Taking out her knife she began carving images in the rust of the walls. She was already on her second image by the time Rusame crept through the broken window, gunblade in tow. A thick bruise was welling up under her eye.
"There were only a few vagrants milling about, mostly prostitutes. I cleared 'em out."
PruCan looked up, eyes widening in concern. "Are you alright? That looks really bad."
"Oh, this?" She tenderly caressed the yellowing bruise. "It's fine, looks worse than it feels. CubaLarus was giving me a hard time, but I managed to shoo him off. The coast, for all intents and purposes, is clear."
"Same here." Rusame crouched down next to her doodling friend, a small smile on her lips. PruCan sheathed the knife, her hand coated with flecks of rust. "You like it?"
"It's a rock."
PruCan spluttered, cheeks dusting pink. "No, that's supposed to be Gilbird."
"Uh-huh. Is that Mickey Mouse then?"
"W-what?!"
"Why does Mickey have a rock on his head?"
"That's Kumajirou, you twit!"
Chuckling, Rusame put both of her hands up. "I surrender. Geez."
PruCan snorted, clearly affronted, before going back to her work. "Not awesome, Ruse."
Snickering, Rusame settled against the wall, letting the scraping of the knife lull her into a light doze. A small smile was gracing her lips. "I wonder what they want to talk about..."
"I'm more concerned with who wants to talk to us. They must've went through a lot to get a hold of your number like that." PruCan paused, a glint of worry in her eyes. "We need to be careful, Ruse. For all we know this could be an ambush."
Rusame snorted. "Some ambush. It's about the war effort, though, Prue. I just know it."
"How could it be? We've only ever talked about it to each other in person. No emails to hack, and unless one of us has a stalker..."
They both fell silent, Rusame lulling herself back into a daze. If she were to be honest with herself, she almost wished that there was an ambush waiting for her. That there was some hotshot upstate had caught wind of her glorious plans and was attempting to stamp out the problem. Rusame against the entire guard, USUK quivering in her mighty throne. Rusame slaying the dragon like the hero she was, Rusame winning.
Grin widening, she lost herself into a daydream, expression serene, before abruptly going rigid. Lurching to her feet, she tightened her grip on the trigger, before firing three consecutive times in the darkness. PruCan shrieked and covered her ears, the dull ringing of the shots going off like firecrackers.
"Ruse, what the hell—?"
"I thought you said the place was empty, Prue!" she spat furiously.
"It was—it is empty!"
Rusame kept firing, the bullets screeching in the darkness, her expression a steely mask of icy reserve. The magazine empty, she ducked down and reloaded before creeping closer towards the center of the warehouse. "I saw something moving. A person. Somebody else is here. Show yourself!"
The minute the cry left her lips, a lithe shadow dropped from the ceiling and tackled Rusame to the ground, knocking the gunblade from her hands. Rusame cursed and snarled profanities, quickly finding herself pinned to the ground by the attacker. Determined to not be outdone, Rusame freed her hand and socked the shadow right in the jaw. "You fucker—!"
PruCan watched in dazed horror as Rusame snarled and fought away, rolling around on the floor. The tumultuous nature of the fight left her unable to identify the attacker. In her trembling grip was the knife, but PruCan found herself completely frozen to the spot, watching with dazed red-violet eyes. Her jaw flapped uselessly.
"STOP!"
Rusame paused, and suddenly found the heavy weight of the attacker lifted off of her. Inhaling deeply, she scrambled to her feet, panting heavily with a bloody lip and bruised knuckles, searching wildly for her misplaced gunblade. Her eyes landed on the weapon on the other end of the room, cradled in the paw of her attacker.
Visibly paling, Rusame's eyes nearly bulged out of her head, face slack with shock.
"YOU?!"
~*O*~
Ah, look at all these beautiful reviews! I feel guilty giving you this cliffhanger in thanks. I wanted to add more, but I realized it was taking way too much time. If I keep the chapters shorter it gives me more room to update faster. You'd rather get two short chapters in a week than one long chapter in two, right?
A naginata is a curved Japanese spear that was used by samurai and warrior monks. It kind of reminded me of a hockey stick/sword hybrid, so I thought it'd be a cool idea to make that PruCan's signature weapon. While I think Rusame's preferred weapon would still be something a little blunter, the gunblade helps sooth America's gun fetish. And gunblade's are awesome. Plain and simple.
You guys can probably guess who the mystery ninja is anyway, right? I'll give you a hint; they've already been mentioned at least thrice. Good luck and see ya'll later! ^^
