Author's Note: Well, the fall season is starting to gain momentum, and my chapters are getting longer, so this will mean more time between updates. But of course, as usual, it won't keep me from working on it whenever I am able. Hope everyone is having a pleasant school year thus far ^_^.


She nearly wept with relief at the sight of her menstrual blood.

Arakawa leaned against the bathroom wall of her "estate" and threw the bloody rag in the toilet, feeling sure she was the only woman on earth who looked forward to her periods, and she welcomed the pain. The air conditioning unit groaned to life and the steady sound of recycled air blowing through the vents began to fill the silence in the room. She wished it would stay on all the time as she hated the dead silence that would fall like mortuary drapes around the room when it went off. That silence was like hearing death, if it were a sound that were audible. She certainly felt like she was living in a tomb. She slid down the wall until she was sitting on the floor, the cold sending a shock through her bare upper thighs and buttocks, and closed her eyes. She knew she should get back to work, for there was so much of it to do, and it was so very important to do it. Not just the research that ensured her continued survival, but also the research and projects that Kakuzawa did not know about, such as the makeshift radio she would use to send out her distress call every so often.

It was an extremely risky move, but she long ago stopped caring whether she lived or died. She only cared to the extent that she had a responsibility to the dead to stop the Diclonius, and Kakuzawa. She was a brilliant mind, of that she had no self doubt, and her ability to understand the biology of the Diclonius had been invaluable to finding out how she could destroy them. It had been part of her work with Professor Kakuzawa, for if they were not able to find a cure then the next best thing was going to be a viral weapon that would target the Diclonius' specific biology. Their closest efforts yielded a pathogen that worked one-hundred percent of the time on Diclonius cells, but since their biology was so closely related to humans, it also would affect one out of every ten humans, which was an estimated figure she'd written up after numerous experiments with human cells. She had remembered feeling disgust when Kakuzawa had suggested that she use human beings for those tests. At the time, she had merely thought it was some kind of sick joke, but she had no idea what he was really doing with the Diclonius girls, and that he was probably completely serious. As a weapon, they had been tasked with designing the pathogen as a doomsday scenario countermeasure where there was a large unchecked population of Dicloinus that would be impossible to combat by conventional means.

The weapon would work in two phases, the first being an airborne detonation of the pathogen. While it was very easily communicable and had a remarkable ability to travel long distances once airborne, it suffered from a few fatal flaws. One of those being that unless there was a reactive agent, the pathogen would remain benign, doing no harm to anything, and eventually going through apoptosis after forty-eight hours. The other problem was while it could spread easily, it could also be contained easily with the simplest of physical barriers. A fine mesh net could stop it. The first part of the detonation would be more of a preparation, loosing the pathogen above the clouds and allowing the water within them to act as a vehicle for the pathogen to spread and replicate, which was a process that would take about twenty-four of the forty-eight hours to completely cover a ten mile radius above wherever the agent was released. The second phase, would be a surface to air strike that would cause a vaporizing reaction upon detonation, superheating the clouds as the virus was ignited by the reactive agent in the missile. It would chain to the entire affected radius and ignite the virus which would then fall to the ground as toxic ash, breaking apart in any wind to eventually become like dust which would then be inhaled. Because of the red tint the clouds would take upon its introduction, and the ashen rain and burning miasma after viral detonation, it had been nicknamed by the Institute: Red Sky. It was a terrible weapon, to be used under the most dire of circumstances, and she had been one of it's architects. Now that weapon was complete, and at the disposal of Kakuzawa who was just completely insane at this point. Where he once had a purpose and clear direction, or at least he had seemed to in the beginning, he was now bordering on megalomania, believing himself to be the herald of his lost race. His measures towards achieving that end had just been more and more outlandish, and he seemed to be in a mood bordering on hysteria now that it was all threatening to crash down on him.

That was why she was risking her broadcasts more now than ever before. She had escaped death once by agreeing to cooperate with Kakuzawa, but he would have no reason to keep her alive if he was about to face the board's judgment. He might even see her as a liability and finish what he started that day when he shot her. Knowing what she knew about his other plans, she knew he would never let her leave alive. What she was working on currently was not any sort of cure. The board would have what they wanted with the weapon. What Kakuzawa really wanted was to find a way to convert the molecular structure of the invisible appendages that the Dicloinus mind could control, into a biological agent, which was a task that fell to her. As the vectors had been seen to spread upon physical contact, and therefore mingling, with the DNA of humans, it debunked the theory that they were true telekinetic beings. The vectors were physical in nature, though their molecular structure could be broken down at will into microscopic particles, allowing them to pass though seemingly solid matter. While there were some elements that made this impossible, for instance the very high density metals of tungsten and platinum, most any other element or solid surface could eventually be penetrated without destroying the material, like the hand of a ghost passing through a wall. However as the Institute had learned, what the vectors could not pass through easily, they tore through violently. Given enough time, the average Silpilet could pass a vector through solid steel, but any test subject with cause to do this would likely be trying to escape, and wouldn't have the time it would take to do that as security forces would surely bear down on them by then. They could certainly destroy it however, which would still require effort, but not as much. It was the random escape attempts by Dicloinus test subjects which had unwittingly created that experiment that no one had previously thought to test. While the large enclousers that held them were still made of steel, their personal enclosures were made of tungsten, which seemed to be able to withstand any attempts with vectors to even dent it, let alone tear it apart, and was more cost effective than using platinum. This was why certain S.A.T agents were equipped with tungsten munitions, as they could pass through Diclonius vectors, though their trajectory could still be affected somewhat as they did.

From a biological standpoint, the vectors were not mental projections, but merely extra arms. They could not typically be seen by humans as the molecules they were made of existed in the ultraviolet spectrum, but could be seen by other Diclonius due to their unique brain chemistry. Some humans had been known to be capable of seeing them for the same reasons Red Sky would work on one of every ten humans: the biology was similar, and there was bound to be some human subjects that would be more similar to the Diclonius than others, just by the law of averages. Arakawa had found all of this fascinating, but Kakuzawa cared for only one part of that research, which was that the arms had a physical makeup and that the molecules present within them would start mutating human cells immediately upon penetrating the epidermis, which if he made it into an airborne virus, would be as easy as merely breathing it in.

The air conditioning clicked off, distracting her. She had been at it again, escaping into her own mind and concentrating on the science of her work so she didn't have to think. She wouldn't have to think about how alone she was. How she would never have a chance for a normal life which she had always wanted but was always too busy and withdrawn to reach for. Or how everyone that knew about her had been told, and they believed, that she was dead. She wouldn't have to feel the terrible guilt that mocked her whenever she remembered that her hands built a weapon of mass destruction, and would probably do worse the longer she selfishly remained alive, or how Kakuzawa had shown her what his "plans" for her had really meant as he raped her on a regular weekly schedule, finding time to do so twice a week. She could set her watch to her own rape, she had thought with grim amusement.

Careful what you wish for, she'd thought bitterly. She hadn't wanted to die a virgin, well…she certainly wasn't that anymore, and since Kakuzawa didn't like the idea of having sex with an unwashed body, he had moved her into a cell with a bathroom where she could wash herself at any time of her choosing. So now she could finally have those showers she'd often lamented over not having. He was one of them; he had shown her the horns, and he meant to make her breeding stock, thinking that perhaps conception, instead of vector transfer, was the real key to breeding queens. Perhaps not in his generation, but in the ones following. He truly thought he was seeding the rise of the Diclonius as a dominant species. She didn't know how true his theory was; whether he was just that desperate and insane or if it was just an excuse to have a woman he could screw when he had time, she really wasn't sure. What she was goddamn sure of however, was that he wasn't going to get a child out of her if she had anything to say about it. She had been given enough resources that allowed her to come up with a sort of "inoculate" which worked similar to the Red Sky virus, but more safely diluted, and had started taking it in secret. The idea was that it would target the Dicloinus DNA present in his semen, and either kill them, or cause septic abortion from the virus' presence in her blood, and of course, her womb.

She knew the risks. The virus could outright kill her during one of her self medications, and then there was always the possibility that if she took it long enough, her womb would not be able to support any life at all and she would only carry death inside her. Maybe it was already too late. A tear slipped down her face at the thought. She wished it were just rape, that much she could handle, but his mission to impregnate her, and the potential consequences of her methods to prevent that, had snapped something inside her. She didn't just want to escape to stop a potential loss of countless lives. She wanted her hands free to kill Kakuzawa, and wipe the Dicloinus off the face of the earth. They were the cause of so much suffering, their very existence corrupting, violating, and destroying everything they touched. They were a blight upon the defenseless, and a tempting, uncontrollable weapon for those with power. She absolutely hated them, hated Kakuzawa…

"You son of a bitch…" she whispered aloud to herself, crying silently and drawing her knees up. She was crying with as much anger as relief at knowing that since her period had come again, it meant that the inoculation was working, or maybe she was just lucky. Either way, it was like her body was reassuring her that all was not lost yet. She stood up and walked numbly to her "living" area, which was not much larger than her old cell had been, and sat in front of the computer she had been given. Kakuzawa had not completely underestimated her and that computer wasn't connected to anything that could have given her a line to the outside world, but he had stupidly given her enough that she could improvise. The device was crude and she wasn't completely sure it was sending signals far enough to be heard by anyone listening, but it was all she had, and using it made her feel like she had at least some sort of plan, and not just a warm body to be used while she waited to die or go insane. She took it from the desk and stared at it as the silence surrounded her…suffocated her. She clicked it on, knowing that there wasn't anyone listening, feeling hope slip away from her.

"My name is Arakawa," she started, not really knowing what she wanted to say, "and I loved my job. I guess not many people can say that, that they really loved their job, but I did. Loved it so much I didn't think I cared about anything else. I had a bad habit of that, shutting everything out. I always hated how that made it so easy for people to startle me. It kept me focused though, so I didn't have to think about all the things I was missing in life by keeping to myself."

Tears began to slide down her cheek as the words kept coming out.

"But now all I have is time, and I don't care about my work. All I can do is think about how much time I've wasted and that I won't have any left to try and change things. I have this whole life I never really lived, and what did I trade that for? This?"

She wiped her eyes and sobbed once before continuing.

"I've never held hands with another man, never even had a first kiss, or anyone I even liked, or that liked me…I don't know, maybe someone did like me and I was just so oblivious that I didn't see it. You know what I got instead? Rape. That's what I got to have instead of love or affection. I didn't even think about any of this until…god…until recently. Months, not even a full year. My whole life, and if I wrote an autobiography it would look like a job resume. Twenty-five years and I could sum my whole life up on a single sheet of paper. Two maybe if I double spaced."

She looked down at the simple device, it's single, faint blue light signifying that it was on and receiving audio. She thought of the light as the eye of a person who cared what she had to say, the microphone being their listening ear. It was all she had.

"I'm so alone in here, and whenever I think too much, I get scared. All that stuff I was saying before about needing to escape for some mission…it's shit. I'm so full of shit. The only reason I want to do that mission is because it means vengeance, but I want to get out of here because I'm scared and alone and I just want a second chance …I'd…settle just for someone to talk to. I don't want to die here. I don't want to die for absolutely nothing at all."

She took a moment to catch her breath. In all the times she had been afraid, when she was shot, when she knew she was a prisoner, and when she was being raped, she had somehow managed to keep it all away from her spirit, focusing instead on the logical dilemmas she faced, and how she could use her skills to solve them. But she was at a point where her problems could not be solved by researching, analysis, or theorizing.

"I never really lived. Ever in my life. All I ever did was make myself into a tool that others use without seeing me. If there is anyone listening…don't do what I've done, you'll regret it so much when your time runs out. I know I do…"

She had run out of tears, and numb desolation took their place.

"I know there's no one out there that could help me, even if they heard this. The security here is too tight, the police won't touch them, so I don't blame you for not coming. There's nothing you can do. Just don't forget me. There's not much to tell about who I am, but please just pass it on sometime that there was once a girl who lived in the world named Arakawa, who wanted to be a great success someday like everyone else. And she was. In fact…she was such a success…that it killed her. Tell them they mustn't forget to live."

She stared at the device after taking her finger off of the transmit button, willing someone, anyone, to talk back, but as always, no one ever did. She looked at the clock on her computer, 7:45 P.M. It would be getting dark outside by now, if it wasn't already. She'd never know for sure, as she was never let anywhere near a window. This also of course meant dinner, which was her only luxury as she was allowed to have her choice of food. She preferred somen noodles in hot soup, a dish she never got tired of, for as with most things she tended to stick with what worked for her. As if on cue, she heard the door mechanism click with the muted beeping sounds of buttons being pressed on the locking device outside her cell. It would be the same; two people, a guard with a gun, and a guard with a tray. They'd tell her to step against the wall and she'd try to ignore how scared she was of having a gun pointed at her as the man with the food would set it on her computer desk. They'd try not to look at her and she'd notice guilt whenever one of them accidentally did. The man with the tray had tripped once and bumped into her during one visit, and had grasped her shoulder for support without realizing it. She had instinctively reached out to steady him, placing her own hand on his shoulder and grabbing his other arm.

"Sorry…" he'd said, forced to look at her.

"It's alright…"

She hadn't interacted with anyone other than Kakuzawa for a long time, and that fleeting moment with her prison guard had been precious. She had actually ignored the other guard's movement as he'd stepped forward and held the gun barrel inches from her face, thinking that Arakawa had been trying to overpower her guard. She held her gaze with this stranger, who had been bringing her meals for months, and she had not really looked at him, just as it was obvious he never really looked at her. To her he was just a guard; a cog in the terrible machine of the Institute, but in his eyes she saw the same thing she would see in her own eyes in the mirror: a prisoner. He may not have been a prisoner in the same way that she was, but she knew that not all cages were made of steel and physical locks. That sometimes, a person's choices were limited and they had to do the best they could to survive, and that sometimes, it meant doing things that conflicted with a person's values or moral code. That had been when she felt true despair, because she understood the need to survive, and that it would always override a person's values when they were put to the test. Guilt and morality would not motivate these men to help her. Life and death were more important to them than right or wrong, and this was the way most of humanity worked. She was lost. They would feel regret and remorse…all the way up to the moment where they would pull the trigger on her anyway, and as they dug her grave and threw her in.

The door hissed as it slid open reveling two men, her guards of course. One in light and the other more in shadow, but where was his gun? The first man stepped in and was bathed in the cold flickering light of her computer monitor.

"K…Kakuzawa?"

He stepped in, a serious expression on his face as he look over her still partially exposed body as she was only wearing a long white collared button up shirt, her bare legs mostly exposed. He raked his eyes over them and drew a slow breath, she wanted to spit in his face.

"You…you can't. It's my time of the month. You can't!"

"I'm aware of that Arakawa, I think I know your monthly cycles as well as you do at this point," he said with a lecherous grin."

She wanted to scream at him, but it would do no good. Besides, she was scared, and at this point she only wanted mercy. How could she judge her guards? They probably just wanted the same thing.

"I'm actually sorry to have to bring you this news Arakawa…"

A pit of awful dread settled in her stomach. She knew what he was going to tell her. She had been waiting for this every day she woke in the mornings.

"But I'm in a terrible situation here. I can't afford to have the board find out about you, and they will be here soon. You have been a tremendous help to me, and I regret that this is how you'll be thanked for your services."

That did it, it wasn't that she was angry that he was saying he was going to kill her. It was that she had done so much to help him and now he was throwing her away like trash.

"You goddamn son of a bitch! I'LL KILL YOU!"

She launched herself at him but he grabbed her wrists and overpowered her easily, throwing her down on the bed and forcing his body between her legs, holding her down as she tried to throw him off and she started to cry as she realized the futility of it, and simply gave up. He didn't do anything more than that, it was simply a reminder that he had power over her, and he could exert it anytime he wanted. He then backed up a few steps and hauled her to her feet, turning her around and placing zip tie hand restraints around her wrists.

"You're just going to kill me? Can't you just let me go? I'll leave Kamakura! I'll leave Japan! You'll never hear from me again!"

"You know I can't take that risk. Also I'm sure you'd forget that vehement conviction the moment you were out of eyesight of this place."

"Please!" she sobbed.

"I'm sorry Arakawa. But this is the way it has to be."

He motioned to the second man, still slightly in shadow, but who held himself differently. Her regular guard had a stiff posture that seemed to say 'I am the authority here and you will take me seriously'. This man had that same sense of authority in his stance but it didn't look forced, rather unintentional. Like a man who was so used to being in authority that his manner simply exuded it naturally.

"Commander Ryota, if you would please escort Arakawa to the shoreline. Arrange a detail of men to perform the execution."

"That won't be necessary," came his quiet reply, his voice carrying the notes of the summer breeze with the chill of late autumn air, "I will perform the execution personally."

"As you like. As much as I'd like to stay and at least give you the courtesy of witnessing your exit from this world Arakawa, I have other matters to attend to before the board arrives. For what it's worth, I wish it didn't have to be this way. I rather enjoyed having you around," he winked at her. This time she did spit at him, her hate filled eyes bored into him. He slowly wiped the spit off of his face, then smiled again.

"Goodbye Miss Arakawa. I'll give Director Vanith your regards."

"Tell him I said 'fuck you'".

He chuckled, then turned and walked out of the room, Ryota stepping forward into the light as he passed. He was an older man, probably in his late fifties, but he looked healthy and strong, his arms the clearest evidence of muscle gained not through exercise but by hard and practical use. His eyes were a stormy gray that matched his long and mostly gray hair, streaked with some black, which he held tied loosely behind him. She had never thought a man could be beautiful, and especially not an older man, but Ryota was most certainly that; beautiful. Ryota held out his hand.

"It's time to go miss."

"Please don't do this…"

"If you feel you can't walk on your own, I'll carry you."

She was confused by his manner. He had a mournful way about him, a voice that sounded heavy with regret and resignation. But something about him touched her. She was afraid of him because she knew he was going to kill her, but yet something about him made her feel sorry for him. She just couldn't figure it out.

"No…I can walk."

He gently placed his fingertips on her arm and she blushed without realizing it.

"Turn around please."

She obeyed, frustrated with herself that she did. This man was going to KILL her, what was she doing? What was she thinking? He stepped close to her and he slid his fingertips down her arm until they got to her wrist, which he held steady. The movement was not conscious; she could tell he hadn't really meant to caress her arm that way, which somehow made it even more seductive. She felt a tug, and a snap, then suddenly her hands were free. Turning around suddenly she saw the combat knife in his hand that he had withdrawn from his belt.

"No one should go to their death in chains, or in shame. It's a sin."

He motioned to a small dresser that held her clothes in it.

"Get dressed, I won't walk you out there that way. I'll wait outside for five minutes, that should be enough time for you to get dressed and collect anything you want to take with you."

"I have nothing to take."

"Only people who are nothing, have nothing. Everyone has something that tells others who they are, in one way or another, even the destitute. Whether that thing is physical, or merely an idea. So collect your things or your thoughts, the choice is yours. Five minutes."

He left the room, and she heard it lock. She immediately set about finding something at least half decent to put on. Most of her clothes were lab coats and plain pants, but there was this one thing…she had never worn it because there was no reason to…where…ah, there it is. It was one of her very rare casual outfits that came with the clothes of hers that she'd had brought to her in the Institute, one of the rare concessions made by Kakuzawa. A long black skirt, with a simple, but handsome red, long sleeved shirt with wide arms that made the sleeves fall back to her elbows when she raised her hands. She liked the outfit because it made her feel like a person rather than a scientist. Or rather, like a woman, and not some sexless research tool. She didn't have much time left, was there anything she really cared to take with her? She had nothing here, absolutely…

"…everyone has something that tells who they are…"

The radio! She could hide that easily enough, it was small. Even if anyone knew about it, it wouldn't matter anyway since she was about to die. She realized that was what she wanted to take. It had been her confidant over the long months; talking through it made her feel like she wasn't alone, and if she had it with her, she could feel like she was walking with a friend. Also it picked up sound very well, and if she was going outside, perhaps she could transmit one last message a little further out into the world. So someone could hear the injustice that occurred just out of sight of the people. So that her passing could be marked by the sound of a gunshot that would hopefully be heard by someone in Kamakura. It was pointless, she knew, but it was all she had. She had concealed it just as the door opened again to revel Ryota.

"Are you ready?"

Arakawa nodded her head. Ryota held his hand out again and she walked towards him.

"You look beautiful miss."

"Please, call me…Akane," it seemed so strange to ask someone to call her by her first name. There had not been cause for someone to do that quite literally for years. There were times when she'd almost forget it herself.

"Of course, Akane."

He took her hand in his own, and she instantly felt stronger, and ready. Even though she was likely holding the hand that would grasp that gun which would kill her. They began to walk down the hallway, taking turns here and there that would lead them outside into the night air, where she would hear the waves crashing against the rocks and the birds that would be in the midst of settling down for the night. She afraid of what was coming at the end of the journey so her walking slowed. He slowed with her, and let her set the pace.

"What's your first name?" she asked him.

"Ryota."

"But…Kakuzawa called you Commander Ryota, I thought he was using your last name."

"He wasn't."

"Then…what's your last name?"

"It is a collection of letters that make up a name, that's what it is. I think it more appropriate to consider where it is."

"Well then where is it?"

"Buried before I could claim it. I see no reason to take things that were never mine. My name is Ryota, that is all there is. That is all I have."

"That can't be true."

"I used to think so too. Life doesn't hold back when it wants to prove you wrong though. Can't afford not to see the truth of things."

"What's the truth you see in this? Killing me?"

"That we are what we are, and there's no changing that. Most truths are ugly ones that make no apologies for themselves. We either accept them, or don't, but things will remain the same either way."

"You have no idea what Kakuzawa's going to do to the world. Can you really just stand by and let him do it?"

Her growing fear of Kakuzawa's possession of her viral research gnawed at her. This man had to understand what could happen if that madman decided to unleash it in a last gasp of defiance upon an unwitting populous.

"Whatever he chooses to do to the world is whatever is fated to happen to the world. One way or another, the events will come to pass, whether by his hand or another. All we can do is accept it and prepare to whether the storm."

"You can't really believe you're that powerless."

"I'm far from powerless Akane, but I've seen too many seasons pass to believe that anything we do could halt the onset of winter, or the rebirth of summer. I'm not ignorant of what lives in the depths here. Our world will change, we just have to be ready."

They reached the outer doors and exited the facility. The air rushed at her and it felt wonderful, to finally experience fresh air after so many months cramped in laboratories, and her small cell. For the briefest of moments, she forgot that she was walking to her death and felt…free. When the despair of losing her life crept back upon her, she felt him squeeze her hand. She looked over towards him and saw his eyes searching her.

"I…" she suddenly couldn't speak.

"What is it Akane?"

There was something in his eyes, like he was looking for something…no…seeing something. The intensity of it made her feel small and unworthy, but she refused to look away. Whatever was in his gaze, she felt like she was drawing upon it, sometimes fighting with it, as though she felt he were expecting her to give in and look away. How could a man like this have anything to do with the Institute? She had never met anyone like him.

"You don't belong with them, these people. They don't deserve you."

She didn't know what made her say that, only that it was simple fact. He seemed so far outside what the Institute represented, and was merely held back by them. Maybe he was as much a prisoner as she was, but in a way she could never fathom. Survival did not guide this man's motives. She wished she knew what did guide them. The look in his eyes when she had spoken those words made her breath catch. He looked almost…stricken.

"I'm sorry, I didn't meant to offend you in any way if I did," she said stupidly. He was just so…serious. It gave his every look, word, and action the weight of purpose and meaning.

"You didn't Akane. I…just."

He seemed to take a moment to collect himself.

"You just reminded me of someone I once knew."

After a few moments, he turned and started walking away towards the beach, without bothering to see if she was following him. She supposed she could run, but where would she go? As afraid as she was, she didn't really want to die running and screaming. There was no escape, and she'd rather die this way, in beautiful scenery. Her executioner not a cold, indifferent stranger, but Ryota who was strangely comforting. She knew she had to be insane, that her crushing loneliness was making her accept this. She followed quickly to catch up to him and continued walking at his side. He looked over briefly towards her, then turned back to the approaching sea.

"Can I ask who?" she said.

He didn't answer, but merely sighed.

"They must have been someone very important to you. I could see it in your face. You're going to kill me anyway, you can at least tell me. I want to know."

"You're pushy like her too," he chuckled, "the gods certainly have a sense of humor…"

After a few more moments, they reached the water, an old pier stretching out further into the waves and the lights of distant Kamakura could be seen beyond the water. She agonized that she could see it with her eyes, but she would never step foot upon it's shores again.

"Would you like to sit here for a while?" he asked her. She seemed puzzled, and a strange light of hope began to flicker within her.

"I…I would."

Ryota walked slowly to the pier and when he reached a point where the walkway was level with his thighs, he turned and sat, and motioned Arakawa to sit beside him.

"It's a beautiful night, I've always enjoyed the rains. The clouds come thick in the sky and give us gentle light in the daytime. At night the breeze of the stormy day persists. It's like a lullaby. Lots of people don't like the rain," Ryota continued, crossing his arms over his chest and closing his eyes as Arakawa took her place beside him, "they look at it like an inconvenience, and not the gift that it is meant to be. There's such a purity in that which is tulmutious. An honesty there I've always appriciated."

As she sat she noticed something out of the corner of her eye, and when she did, she tried very hard not to appear that she was noticing it. Ryota's gun was in the holster at his hip, and his arms were over his chest. How could he be so careless? From where her hand was, there would be no way he could stop her if she snatched the gun from the holster. She could have it out, and on him in a moment, no matter how well trained he was as a soldier.

"Her name was Rika," he said suddenly. She froze, suddenly wanting to hear more, even though she knew she was in mortal danger and should take the weapon right now.

"You're like her in some ways. Perhaps even more if we had been given the chance to better know one another. It's a sin that a person like yourself has been so chained down. I saw fire within you in that cell. I wonder what you would have been without those chains?"

"Tell me about her?" she said, "maybe you can give me some idea. I've never really lived at all in my life. This is as close to living as I've ever gotten in twenty-five years. I want to enjoy it while there's still time."

"There's never enough time, to say the things we need to say, or do the things we need to do. I've wasted so much of it myself, but I can at least offer you a little more time. I'll tell you about her, and then I want to hear about you."

"There's not much to tell…"

"I think you'll surprise yourself once you start talking."

She relaxed herself, and set aside thinking about his weapon. He seemed oblivious to her hand's proximity to his weapon and she reasoned that even if he became conscious of it at any point in their conversation, she could still easily get possession of it. So she leaned back against one of the support poles, enjoying the way the wind billowed the shirt and caressed her body beneath it, and listened to his calming voice as he began to speak amidst the sound of waves crashing upon the shore.

"Rika was a light in a dark place…and she shone so brightly…"