Dark Lady Amon
by amiwakawaiidesu
(Based on characters and situations from "Witch Hunter Robin", created by Hajime Yatate and Shuko Murase)
CHAPTER FOUR
When Amon woke up the next morning, Robin's silently spoken words remained clear and vivid in his mind.
Ti amo...
I love you.
It had not occurred to Amon previously that Robin felt that way; consumed as he'd been with his hatred of witches, and the struggle to keep his craft dormant inside himself, Amon had seen in Robin what he feared he might become himself: not just a craft-user, but a craft-user with power so fearful it would be a danger to himself and everyone around him.
But something had changed in Amon after he accepted his craft; there was no sundering of reason, or descent into madness. Lying there in Robin's bed, occupying Robin's body, Amon couldn't say he felt normal exactly, but he certainly wasn't mad - not the way his mother had become before the hunters came to gun her down. Finally, after so many years of struggling against himself, Amon felt peace and clarity. Of course Robin loved him. She always had; he was just too blind to see it.
"Forgive me," Amon said, sitting up in bed and speaking to the spirit of Robin now asleep inside himself. "I will make amends to you, I promise."
Amon then noticed - to his immense relief - that the persistent pain of his period was finally subsiding; also, according to Robin's clock, it was just 6 am - well before the time Hana would arrive to open the office downstairs - so Amon decided to do what he'd been avoiding for three days now, and take a bath.
Since Robin had given Amon express permission to see her naked body, Amon hesitated just a moment after filling the bathtub before pulling off Hana's nightgown and stepping into the hot water. Amon then sank down in the water - letting the warmth envelop him - and very nearly fell asleep before he heard the sound of a door opening downstairs. He then heard footsteps climbing the stairs outside Robin's room and instinctively ducked down in the water (after all, he didn't want to give Nagira a free peep show); it wasn't Nagira, however, but rather Hana who knocked on the door.
"Robin-san, are you decent?"
"Um...I'm just taking a bath," Amon said, "but you can come in, Hana-san."
Hana cracked the door open and poked her head inside.
"I'm sorry," Hana said, "I didn't mean to be rude. I was just curious how you're feeling."
"I'm feeling much better, thank you."
"Would you care for some breakfast before I open the office?"
"Actually, I was thinking I might come down and get myself something to eat. It's nice to stay in bed, but I don't want to get too used to it."
"It's too bad your boyfriend doesn't have that attitude," Hana muttered, frowning as she thought about Nagira.
"What was that?"
"Oh, nothing. I'm glad you're feeling better, but just let me know if you need anything."
Amon thanked Hana, who then returned downstairs, and Amon then felt motivated to get on with the day and at least make a token effort at working on the Shinjozuna case. After stepping out of the tub, Amon dried and brushed out Robin's long brown hair, slipped on one of Robin's long convent dresses, then finally attempted to tie up Robin's hair the way Robin had shown him the night before. To his surprise, it wasn't hard at all; standing before Robin's mirror, he gathered up Robin's hair into two equal masses on opposite sides of her head, fixed the hair in place with pins and then wrapped ribbons around the masses, leaving two nicely balanced handlebars framing the face looking back at him in the mirror.
"Siete bei," Amon said in Italian, touching the face in the mirror with Robin's own delicate fingers. "You are beautiful."
Another knock then came at the door, this time followed by Nagira's voice.
"Are you decent?"
"Yes, Nagira; you may come in."
Amon turned to face Nagira as he entered, and Nagira was startled to see Robin's form looking neat and tidy – not so much the bedraggled version recently occupied by Amon.
"Is that still you, Amon?"
"Yes, it's still me."
"Well, I guess you must be getting over your...ah..."
"Period?"
"Yes, that. Which is good, because actually you have a visitor."
"I do?"
"Yes; do you remember that lady Mrs. Wong I was telling you about? Well, she's actually downstairs right now."
"Did she come by just to see me…er…Robin?"
"Actually, she was just passing by the building when I mentioned Robin wasn't feeling well recently. I know you wanted to talk to her anyway, though, so it's kind of lucky she happened by."
"Yes, quite. Where is she now?"
"She's in my office. I don't have any clients for another half-hour yet, so you can speak in there privately if you like."
"Thank you," Amon said, starting toward the door. On the way to the door, though, he could almost feel Nagira's eyes upon him, staring at Robin's body.
"Is something the matter?" Amon asked.
"I was just wondering," Nagira said, forcing himself to lift his gaze, "what does she look like naked?"
"You'll have to ask her that yourself," Amon said, as he opened the door. "That probably wouldn't be the smartest thing to ask a girl who could incinerate you, though."
"True," Nagira said, following behind Amon as he headed downstairs.
X O X O X
Since Robin had already met Mrs. Wong, but Amon had not, Amon knew it might be tricky trying to bluff Mrs. Wong into believing he was still Robin. As Amon entered Nagira's office, though, he resolved to keep the secret of his true identity at least until he knew whether Wong could be trusted.
Mrs. Wong was a small woman – so small that Amon almost mistook her for a child when he saw her sitting in a chair next to Nagira's desk – and indeed her round cherubic face was full of life, belying the age apparent in her cane, white hair and wrinkles.
"Robin-san," Mrs. Wong said, "it's so nice to see you again. Nagira was just telling me you were feeling under the weather."
"Yes," Amon said, moving to sit in a chair opposite Wong's, "but I'm feeling better now, thank you."
"It's your monthly friend, isn't it?"
"Um…"
"You know," Wong said with a smile, dropping her voice to a whisper, "menstrual blood from a virgin witch is very valuable, if you have any you'd like to sell…"
"Er, no…" Amon said uncomfortably, "I think I'd rather not."
"Oh well; you can always tell me if you change your mind later. In the meantime, perhaps I could offer you some of this ginger tea…"
Wong reached into her bag and handed Amon a small box with Chinese characters.
"I'm sure it will help whatever ails you."
"Thank you," Amon said, accepting the box and reaching for Robin's coin purse; "how much do I owe you…?"
"Oh, you don't owe me anything. I'm very grateful for the help you gave me with those crystal balls earlier, so I'm still in your debt."
"But there was the spell you taught me, of course."
"Oh, yes. Probably not immediately useful, though."
Wong's comment brought Amon to a problem: why had Wong taught Robin the spell of Lifekeeping in the first place? Amon certainly had cause to be grateful, but Wong was correct in pointing out that Robin couldn't expect the spell to be immediately useful. Surely there were other incantations Wong could have taught Robin with more immediate usefulness.
"Well," Amon said, "you never know when something like that might come in handy, though."
"Indeed. Speaking of which, did you ever meet up with that young man you were telling me about? The tall, dark fellow who used to work with you?"
"Why, no," Amon said, "I haven't seen him. Why do you ask?"
"You just seemed very concerned about him, after you were separated. I assumed that was the reason you wanted to know the spell of Lifekeeping, because you thought your friend might be in some kind of danger."
Amon couldn't help but smile. Robin's intuition had served her well, since danger was quick to find Amon after he accepted his last assignment from Headquarters.
"Well, I'm sure he's fine," Amon said. "I was wondering, though – as long as you're here – could I ask you about something rather obscure? I understand you know a lot about witches – even things the hunters don't know."
"Of course, Robin-san. You know you can ask me anything."
"I'm curious about a rumor I've heard, that the Shinjozuna Corporation is smuggling witches from China into Japan. Do you know if that's true?"
"That is an obscure question. Why do you care about something like that?"
"Just personal curiosity. When I used to work for Solomon, we heard rumors about that, but nobody could prove anything. I just figured someone like you – someone who knows everything there is to know about local witches – might know more about Shinjozuna than the Solomon Network does."
"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I don't know anything more about Shinjozuna's secrets than you do. I've heard my share of rumors, though. Some people say that Shinjozuna was actually formed by a trio of witches who were driven out of Shanghai back in the 19th century. Perhaps you've read about that yourself; STN-China – which was run by the colonial powers at the time – cornered a coven of witches led by three elemental craft-masters and burned down their headquarters. None of the craft-masters were taken alive, though, and the STN-C never did get a good description of what the craft-masters looked like. The one witch they captured alive said his masters looked like living shadows without any distinguishing features, aside from the fact that one was very short and the other two were very tall; he couldn't even be sure if they were male or female."
"I see," Amon said, noting the uncanny similarity to the very witches he and Robin had encountered earlier. "Actually, I didn't see any report like that in the Solomon database."
"Well, the modern STN-C is very secretive; perhaps they've hidden the report outside the main database. Or perhaps it was just a rumor, after all, and Solomon deleted the record because it couldn't be substantiated."
Amon found the former more likely than the latter; Solomon's archives were generally very thorough, but the contributions of individual branches (such as STN-China and STN-Russia especially) were occasionally censored for political reasons, or to conceal the results of hunts that went awry.
"Has anyone in Japan seen that trio of master witches?" Amon asked.
"Not that I know of; but of course they would be dead by now anyway, wouldn't they?"
"Yes, I would imagine…
"So," Amon continued, "hypothetically, if someone wanted to get inside the Shinjozuna main office, do you have any idea how they might go about that?"
Mrs. Wong laughed.
"I'm afraid breaking-and-entering isn't my area of expertise," Wong said. "And besides, I thought you only had an idle curiosity about this subject."
"Actually, it's more than idle curiosity. There are some loose-ends related to a case I was working on before I left Solomon that I'd like to clear up, and ideally I'd like to clear them up without getting Solomon HQ or the STN-J involved."
Wong gave Amon a searching look, and Amon (who assumed Wong was a craft user) wondered if Wong could actually tell he wasn't being entirely truthful.
"It's very dangerous getting mixed up with Shinjozuna," Wong said finally. "Even if they don't have their own private army of witches, they've got plenty of ordinary security, and friends in every corner of the world. There's nowhere you can go they wouldn't hunt you down."
"I wasn't planning on blowing a hole in the wall and waltzing on in. I was hoping for something a little more subtle."
Wong thought about that for a long moment, then smiled.
"Well, there is the publishing division of Shinjozuna," Wong said. "If memory serves, the office of Happy Look magazine is located right inside the main office, and they're having an open model search in a couple of weeks. Maybe you could get inside the building that way; you are a girl, after all, and a very pretty girl at that."
Amon reacted to that suggestion with a cringing shudder that must have been all-too obvious to Wong. Amon was only now getting used to the idea of occupying Robin's body, and he wasn't at all sure he could move around naturally in public without attracting attention – let alone trying to stand out amongst a group of beautiful young girls looking for modeling contracts. Nor was he sure he'd want to use Robin's body in a way she'd probably disapprove of; Robin had lived in a convent most of her life and didn't appear to have the slightest interest in clothes or makeup, or the materialistic way of life that drove a modern nation like Japan.
But there was also a practical problem with Wong's idea: Amon couldn't be certain his spirit would survive another two weeks inside Robin's body, so waiting for the model search was not a practical idea.
"I'm not sure I can afford to wait two weeks," Amon said.
"I see. Well, if your time is limited, why not arrange a meeting with someone who works for Shinjozuna Publications?"
"Could you arrange that?"
"Well, as it happens, I do know a young man who works as a photographer for Happy Look – a regular customer at my shop, you might say. He got a big break after I sold him a lucky amulet, and now he's always asking me for ways he could repay the favor…
"So why don't you give him a call? If you tell him Mrs. Wong sent you, I'm sure he'd be willing to meet with you at least."
Amon thought about that for a long moment before responding. There were a lot of things Amon knew how to do well – like hunting witches, for example, and conducting covert investigations. Nothing in his entire life, however, had ever prepared him to pretend to be a teenage girl interested in modeling. Just contemplating the prospect made him feel ill (though not quite as ill as he'd been feeling the last three days).
"Sure," Amon said, forcing a smile.
Wong then opened her purse and rummaged around for a bit, but neither in her purse nor in her pockets could she find the number she was looking for.
"I'm sorry," Wong said sheepishly, after a moment, "I must have left the number at my shop. But I can go get it for you if you'd like…"
Wong then started to stand up, and Amon quickly moved to help the old woman up.
"Actually, I was planning on going out later anyway," Amon said. "Why don't I just drop by your shop later and I could get the number from you then."
"All right," Wong said; "that will give me more time to hunt around."
Amon then escorted Wong out of Nagira's office and down the steps to the front door, where Mrs. Wong was kind enough to offer Amon a business card with her address on it (since Robin had only been to her shop once before). Amon then thanked Mrs. Wong and saw her out the door before turning to Nagira, who had followed Amon and Wong down from the office area.
"So," Nagira said to Amon, "did you have a productive conversation?"
"Yes," Amon said. "Apparently, Robin might have a modeling career in her future."
Nagira lifted an eyebrow in surprise.
"What's the matter?" Amon asked. "Don't you think I'm pretty?"
Nagira started to answer, but then thought better of it.
"It's probably best if we don't go there," Nagira said.
"Yes," Amon admitted, "probably best."
X O X O X
Amon spent the remainder of the morning and afternoon refining his control of his craft; standing in the alley behind Nagira's law office, he learned how to summon the wind to lift him into the air, and eventually managed to fly all the way to the roof of Nagira's building; he also learned how to use his craft as a weapon, channeling the wind into a point of force strong enough to dent the side of a steel garbage dumpster.
Thus armed with his craft, Amon finally decided to take his first trip into the city in Robin's body later that afternoon, and – now wearing Robin's red coat over her black convent dress – he went up to Nagira's office to let him know where he was going.
"You going anywhere in particular?" Nagira asked.
"Yes," Amon replied, "I thought I'd pay Mrs. Wong a visit, and get the number of that photographer."
"Do you want me to go with you? I was going to head on home myself anyway in an hour or so."
"No, I think I'll be fine. And I have Robin's key, so I can let myself back into your building through the back door."
"Well, take this along at least," Nagira said, handing Amon an extra cell phone he had in his desk. "You never know what might happen, what with all the strange people in the city."
"Yeah," Amon said, "thanks. I'll be back shortly."
In fact, Amon's main concern as he slipped out the back door of the office building was being spotted by the STN-J sensor network, which was naturally extensive throughout the Tokyo area. Amon knew the blind areas of the network quite well though, so he felt reasonably confident that he could avoid detection by creeping down back alleyways, just as Robin must have done when she went to visit Mrs. Wong earlier.
Located on a side street, Mrs. Wong's curio shop was much as Amon had imagined it would be, a tiny building filled with all manner of magical talismans and trinkets, and the redolent with the aroma of scented candles and incense.
"Oh, Robin-san," Mrs. Wong said, looking up from behind her cash register, "there you are! I thought you might have forgotten about me."
"No, I just had some other errands to attend to."
"Understandable. Well, anyway, I found Mr. Setaguchi's number…"
Mrs. Wong ambled out from behind her counter to meet Amon, and passed her another business card, this one purple, and embossed in gold print with the name, phone number and email address of professional photographer Ken Setaguchi.
"Thank you," Amon said, pocketing the card. "You're very kind to help me so much."
Amon then looked around the store for something he could buy and settled on a Shinto good-luck charm decorated with a four-leaf clover, which he paid Mrs. Wong 200 yen more than the 300 yen she was asking for it.
"Keep the change, ma'am," Amon said, as he headed for the door; "if your tip pans out, I might be a regular customer."
After ducking out of Mrs. Wong's shop, Amon then started back toward Nagira's law office, but paused as he remembered an envelope containing 100,000 yen he'd left in his apartment (before being ambushed in the Shinjozuna garage); the money had been given to Amon by Solomon HQ for the purpose of paying off informants and such, but he now perceived he might need the money for other purposes. He might need to buy Robin some new clothes, for example, and he also owed Nagira 50,000 yen for bribing Hana into looking after him during his period.
Fortunately, Amon had chosen to live in an area outside the STN-J sensor network, but he still took no chances as he approached his destination, using his craft to leap from rooftop to rooftop until he finally reached the roof of an office building opposite the three-story building containing his apartment. There Amon paused to survey the street below, looking for any evidence of people who might be staking out the building, but he wasn't surprised that he saw no such evidence; Amon hadn't been carrying any documents with his actual address on them when he'd been ambushed – and of course his spiritless body couldn't have volunteered any information either – so it was unlikely that Shinjozuna knew where he'd been living.
When Amon was finally ready to move, he descended to the side of the office building, ran briskly across the street (feeling just a bit silly as he held up Robin's dress to keep from tripping over it), then moved around to the back of the apartment building and scaled a fire escape that brought him close to the back window of his apartment. He then jimmied the lock on the window and entered the apartment, where he soon discovered that he hadn't been the first person inside the apartment since the ambush.
Whoever had entered earlier was careful, but not careful enough to avoid leaving telltale signs of entry to Amon's experienced eye. Amon had left a tiny origami figure in the carpet underneath the window, and the fact that it was now crushed (as well as fine scratches on the window handle) suggested that someone else had entered the apartment through the window before him. After a careful search, though, Amon confirmed that the earlier intruder was no longer there; the intruder apparently was content to jimmy the lock on the desk in Amon's bedroom and search his personal papers, then left without apparently removing anything from the apartment. That included not only the envelope with the 100,000 yen which Amon found still sitting in a drawer of the desk, but also a loaded .357 magnum revolver that Amon kept as a backup for his now-missing Glock 18.
They obviously weren't burglars, Amon thought, dropping the money and a spare apartment key into one of Robin's coat pockets, and dropping the pistol into the other; so they must have come here looking for more information about me, or who might have my spirit now…
But how could they have known where I live? I wasn't carrying anything with my current address on it…
It was then that Amon remembered the dream he'd had immediately after being ambushed at the Shinjozuna parking garage, in which the witches told him they were not only expecting him, but also insisted that he would be unable to defeat them without his craft. Of course Amon couldn't be certain what, if anything, about the dream reflected actual events, but it seemed increasingly likely that Shinjozuna had been watching Amon long before he had begun watching them. Presumably, if the dream was accurate at all, Shinjozuna wanted Amon specifically because of his long-neglected craft, and they might well have gained what they'd been seeking if Robin hadn't taken his spirit into herself and denied the corporate witches their prize.
I've been completely blind! Amon thought. This entire investigation was probably conjured just to bring me into the clutches of Shinjozuna…!
Although it was hard to imagine that Shinjozuna's reach could extend even into the headquarters of Solomon itself, it was a singular fact that the Solomon database contained almost no useful information about Shinjozuna's long-standing association with Chinese witches, although Amon himself had seen widespread evidence of that association. Further, Shinjozuna's influence extended into every corner of the world, so it wasn't inconceivable that they might even count members of Solomon HQ's administration among their allies.
For a moment, Amon felt a flush of anger toward Father Juliano, but Juliano himself probably didn't realize he was being manipulated. Indeed, Amon had little direct evidence to support his theory, other than the keen intuition that had saved his life so many times before as a hunter. And now that intuition led Amon to a fearful conclusion. If Shinjozuna had researched Amon's background before luring him into their trap, then they probably knew a great deal about his friends and allies. Most of those allies were currently out of reach; Amon obviously knew the current whereabouts of the most important ally – Robin herself – and his former girlfriend Touko was currently well-secured inside a private mental hospital where she was recovering from her recent traumatic stress. As for Karasuma, Doujima, Sakaki, Michael and Chief Kosaka, they were likewise fairly safe because the STN-J had severed formal ties with Solomon HQ before the Factory incident, and the Japan branch was now operating independently. But there were two allies of Amon in Tokyo who were under no such protection: Master Harry and Nagira.
Since the phone in his apartment was almost certainly bugged, Amon slipped out the front door of the apartment (which he locked behind him) and down to the alley next to the apartment building before calling Harry. Naturally, Harry was pleasantly surprised to hear Robin's voice, but Amon didn't stay on the line for long.
"Master," Amon said, "I can't stay on the line for long, but listen…
"How is the weather on the Vistula?"
"It's colder than the Danube," Harry replied, recognizing the code phrase he'd learned decades before when he himself had been a hunter like Amon.
"But warmer than the Dnepr," Amon said.
"I see," Harry said. "Well, take care, Miss Robin."
"And you too, Master," Amon said, hanging up the phone.
Naturally, the secret of Harry's past was one known to few of his customers, just as the secret of his craft ability was known to few of his customers. Amon knew that Harry could take care of himself, though, especially after he had a heads-up like this.
More problematical, though, was Nagira, who had no formal training in espionage or covert operations. Amon (when he was still occupying his own body) hadn't advertised the fact that he was Nagira's brother, so it wasn't necessarily a widely-known fact. But with Shinjozuna's resources, it was only a matter of time before they figured out that Nagira might be the best person to question about the current whereabouts of Amon's spirit.
And of course he has to be on the phone, Amon thought, when he tried to call his brother. Damn it!
Since Nagira might be in immediate danger, Amon couldn't afford to waste any more time trying to call his brother; instead, Amon summoned the wind to carry him to the roof of the nearest building, then continued using the craft to leap from rooftop to rooftop – sometimes leaping over boulevards full of oblivious drivers and pedestrians – to return to Nagira's law office as quickly as possible.
When Amon arrived at the building across the street from the law office, though, he saw Hana and Hirata walking away from the front door, and no light on in Nagira's office window.
He must be walking home, then…
Although Nagira didn't know it, Amon knew where Nagira lived (having gleaned that knowledge earlier from a secret file that the STN-J kept on 'people of interest'), and used that knowledge now to skip along the rooftops between the law office and Nagira's modest apartment building, looking for any glimpse of Nagira.
Perhaps, Amon thought, Nagira is already home…
But Nagira hadn't quite made it home; a few blocks from the law office, well out of sight of any main road, Amon saw his brother lying bruised and battered atop a pile of garbage bags in an alleyway between a pair of warehouses. Setting aside his customary concern for Robin's body, Amon dropped like a stone to the alleyway – not using the craft to brake his descent until the last second – then ran to Nagira's side and checked for a pulse at his neck.
"Nagira," Amon said, "are you all right…?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," Nagira said, cracking open an eye and spitting some blood from the corner of his mouth. "It was just some punk who jumped me; said he wanted to know about Robin…"
"I'll call an ambulance," Amon said, starting for his phone. Before Amon could dial, though, a huge male figure appeared at the end of the alleyway.
"Little miss," the man said with a Chinese accent, "it was so kind of you to drop by. Might you be Robin Sena?"
"And what if I am?" Amon asked, turning to face the man.
"Some friends of mine would like to talk to you," the man said, drawing closer.
"Fine. But this man needs an ambulance first."
"He'll live. Don't worry about him."
"Amon," Nagira then whispered, "get out of here...!"
Nagira had seen the man moving to grab Amon, but Amon's instinct for danger served him again; before the man could grab him, Amon somersaulted backward out of arm's reach. Then, summoning what craft power he still had left, he aimed an air-hammer punch right at the center of the strange man's chest.
The Chinese man wasn't even fazed, though, probably because of the necklace he was wearing, which Amon only now noticed.
Shit! Amon thought. Orbo!
Before Amon even had time to wonder where the goon had gotten orbo from, though, the strange man gestured with his hands and sent a wave of power crashing into Amon, lifting him bodily off the street and sending him smashing into the brick wall at the back of the alleyway.
Since Robin's body wasn't as strong as Amon's, the impact shook up Amon more than he thought it would; indeed, it was all he could do to remain conscious as the witch drew closer again, then lifted him off the ground by the red lapels of Robin's coat.
"Enough playing," the witch said, drawing back a hand and making a fist; "lights out for you, bitch."
Thinking quickly, Amon considered his options; if Shinjozuna sent this witch – and Shinjozuna indeed had its tentacles deep inside Solomon – then this witch had to know that Robin was one of the most powerful craft users who had ever lived (making orbo – wherever they got it from – a wise precaution). But Robin wasn't known for being much of a brawler; if the goon didn't expect it, a palm-heel strike to the goon's nose might stun him long enough to let Amon get away and call the police.
But when Amon tried to move Robin's right hand to make the attack, he found he couldn't move at all; he was completely paralyzed!
Then the witch was throwing his punch, but it only came within ten centimeters of Amon's face before a wall of fire caught the punch and stopped it cold. Startled, the witch dropped Amon – who crumpled to the base of the wall – then Amon felt a second intelligence taking control of his body…Robin herself!
"For hurting my Amon," Robin said, climbing to her feet with fire in her eyes, "there is no forgiveness!"
Just a spectator now within Robin's body, Amon almost felt pity for the Chinese witch as he braced for what was coming, but even orbo couldn't stop Robin's craft when she let it fly at maximum power. The witch – and everything flammable within a two-meter radius – exploded in flames, then vanished as if it had never existed.
Robin, Amon thought, is that you?
"I'm sorry," Robin thought back, "I shouldn't have pressed my power like that. I was just so worried about you…"
Amon then felt Robin's consciousness fading away, and realized she must have returned to her sleeping condition inside him. Then the paralysis was gone, and Amon again had control of Robin's body.
Perhaps Robin had been on the verge of returning to consciousness anyway, but Amon knew that the outpouring of power probably drained whatever energy she needed to remain conscious, and it would probably be a long time before she could awaken again. Just as at the Shinjozuna garage, Amon realized, Robin had given everything she had to save him – even to the point of leaving herself helpless and incapable of defending herself afterward.
"I'm sorry I wasn't more careful," Amon said to Robin, rubbing a bump on the back of his head; "I'll try to take it easier in the future…
"Oh, and grazie, il mio amore."
Thank you, my love.
Amon then hurried to Nagira's side, and helped his brother to his feet.
"Was that Robin just now…?" Nagira asked.
"Yes," Amon said, "but I think she's gone back to sleep again…
"Don't worry about that, though; we need to get you to someplace safe – if you think you can walk."
"Yeah, I'm fine," Nagira said, "I've had worse. Maybe we should go back to the office…"
"No, Shinjozuna will know about your office. I think I might know a better place to lie low for a while, though."
Supporting Nagira, Amon then invited him to head for the mouth of the alleyway.
"So where are we going?" Nagira asked.
"I'll let you know when we get there," Amon replied.
Nagira lifted an eyebrow, but avoided commenting until they were finally out on the street next to the alleyway.
"Well, I know one thing for sure," Nagira said.
"What's that?"
"Hana's never going to believe this excuse for closing the office."