Disclaimer: The characters in this story do not belong to me. They are leagl properties of Namco and people who try to say otherwise will be prosecuted. Severely. Because Namco doesn't take that kind of crud anywhere.

Author's Note: This is the last story of Kiss and Tell. Excluding the intro, the anthology is finally over with a total of 20 chapters. I feel this one is better than my previous story; it was my wish to try to close the anthology with the best I could. I think this one is good enough. After all, this has been my pet ficcie for a full year. This was about the first fic I tried really, really hard at, and after a year it ends.

The story itself is quite glum, but still hopeful. That is all I can say. It's set in an AU Klonoa Heroes background.

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That night the stars had been clear.

The moonlight shone upon the bed, its milky glow bathing the room in a soft light. There was no movement in the room, save for the occasional sounds of breathing and turning around. A girl lay asleep in the bed, turning away from the moonlight, pulling up the covers.

The girl looked young, but not so young that she looked like a child; her features were sharp and set, her hair a dark red, and she had considerably darker skin than most Lunateans would have. She was quite beautiful, one might have remarked; the girl looked very mature compared to her age. Yet however tonight there seemed to be something wrong; as she slept she would frown and mutter occasionally, shifting about uneasily.

A crash sounded in the far distance, and a flurry of orange flames shot up. The light of the flames were far more intense than the moonlight despite them being farther away, and the girl's eyes opened, at first glazed with sleep - but than another crash sounded, and then she shot up in bed, suddenly awake. She tiptoed softly to the window and looked out.

A disasterous sight greeted her. In the far distance, she could see that the mountains were aflame, the power plant buildings toppling to the ground. She could faintly hear shouts in the distance, the fiery complexes burning all around them, but she had only one thing in her mind as she looked around. Her gaze finally fixed upon a dome-shaped building, which appeared unharmed. But the fires were spreading soon, and as the residents were used to so much fire and destruction nobody was doing anything. She drew her dressing-gown closer around her body, as if she were cold.

"God keep you," She murmured. "Oh, dear God be with you."

She walked very quickly over to the bed, taking the thin blanket off and wrapping it around her. She slipped her feet into neat black shoes, different from her usual white boots she wore, and than sat down on the bed, looking out of the window. Her face was calm, but there was a hint of uneasiness and nervousness in her eyes - blue eyes that never stayed still and flickered from time to time - and she sat tense, awaiting for something else to happen.

The noise and shouting continued overhead, shattering the calm of the night, the deep blue sky tainted orange by the flames below. Some water was being sprayed, and the fire seemed to be dying out, but it was still going strong. For a long, long time she watched, her eyes fixed on the dome-shaped building, looking out of the window into the landscape.

All at once it was over.

The orange tint on the sky faded quickly, and there was no trace of the flames left, except for the charred black terrain. The people, matchstick thin from the window view, were dispersing. Volkians never liked to have their night sleep disturbed. The girl leaned back on the bedposts, but she did not sleep. Her eyes remained open, alert and wide, and she looked around constantly. She looked deeply troubled; her features, so sharp and fine when asleep, had become almost gaunt with worry, and her eyes held fatigue in them. But the mouth, despite her hardships, remained gentle, and she sighed softly.

It was no fun to be the only one in the facilities when her associates were away.

The girl carefully opened the window a little, letting the breeze in. She let her mind idly wander by the three other gang members who were off in a mission. There was Joka. He was a strange one, always coming up with the oddest quotes and new ideas. He was admittedly powerful, the most powerful of the four if judged purely by the powers one had, as he could control space and time and create time loops whenever he wished. It was a useful talent to have around, and annoying as Joka was, he was a highly prized member of the gang.

There was Garlen too. The machine-obsessed inventor did just that; he showed little concern for anything else, but the three members of the gang he valued. He would be the one to sort out Joka when he misbehaved, or get the claw marks out of the settee, or comfort her whenever she felt down. He was like a father figure to her, as he cared about her welfare rather a lot. She was completely fine with that, of course. She appreciated Garlen - he appreciated her.

Then there was Janga.

There had always been Janga.

Being the most problematic of the four, he was the odd one out, the homicidal maniac who did not fit in with anyone. He would often threaten to puncture Joka when he was annoyed, or purposefully stab a critical part of the machinary when Garlen was out having a cup of coffee, or steal jewelry out of her room when she was asleep. All of those acts were met with indignant protests, but Janga never ceased those acts, because it was his way of life. Yet despite his antics, she could not help but feel sorry for him; he had had a traumatic life and had known no happiness, ever. It was not easy being an outcast, she knew, and she found herself identifying with him, even though he infuriated her at times. Thinking about it, he was at his gentlest when she was with him. He wouldn't drink, he wouldn't shout abuse - he would just be Janga, a gruff individual who was nice enough to her.

They were all scattered now, in different places. Joka was in the dome-shaped building, she knew, and along with Janga as well, although in different locations. Garlen was already in the Moon's base, waiting for their mission to reach its final stages. She would join the gang once all the trouble was settled - an easy enough job for her. She had volenteered, although Garlen had been reluctant to leave her be. She had also left the Crimson Iris nearby so Joka and Janga could make their escape if in a dire situation.

Funny, it was. She would never have done it for anyone.

There was a whirring of engines far out in the distance. She looked out, and saw an aircraft making its way around the city of Volk. It looked famillar somehow, and it only took her an instant to recognize it; the Crimson Iris itself. Well, well. Nothing surprised her much tonight, and she watched with serene eyes at the sight. The lights were halfway on - she supposed that there was only one member of the gang in it, and that was Janga. She was certain it was.

The girl closed her eyes. But still she did not sleep; she could visualize him now, sitting at the controls, his claws brushing carelessly at the buttons and levers. He was dressed in his usual coat and muffler, not having been bothered enough to put on a flying suit. She disapproved of them herself, so that was fine. He held a glass of wine, but only sipped at it now and then to keep him awake. His odd-eyes stared straight outside, through the inch-thick glass windshield of the Crimson Iris.

He weaved through the searchlights easily and then swept through the sky, unafraid of the clear, dark cloudless emptiness above. She inwardly remarked to herself that a sky full of clouds would have been better cover, but Janga was managing well himself. He once turned around, and smiled gently, and she was happy.

An explosion shook her out of her daydream. She darted to the window, and saw that the dome-shaped building had been blasted apart to oblivion. She cried out momentarily in horror, but then her cry was silenced by the additional rubble falling to the ground. As she watched with horror-stricken eyes, she was no longer tired; she was ready to attack if she had to, alert and ready for the worst. Joka was dead - there was no way the fiend could have survived. There had been no disruption of the atmosphere, so she could safely assume Joka had not been able to create a time loop to escape the building.

More searchlights were flicked on, the bombers now rising to meet the Crimson Iris. The aircraft was fast and capable of stealth, but the bombers were faster - also, Janga knew very little of the stealth mechanics. She knew now that they had been found out and their hideaways destroyed. She would be safe - it was a base facility she was staying in, and not noticeable, but she wasn't bothered about herself. Her eyes only followed the aircraft as it whirred through the air, and the sky was no longer a sky but a confined prison surrounded with lights and shells.

She envisioned Janga again; he was looking ahead, the wine glass forgotten, both hands now on the control panel, trying to get out. She did not move away, did not dare to take her eyes off the aircraft, as if it would be destroyed if its mistress did not look upon it.

She knew that the Crimson Iris had been hit when the right wing went up in flames. Janga was still cool and calm, with only a glance at the destroyed engine. The airship had five, one would make little difference. But the flames were brighter now; they had spread over the entire surface, and very much real. The East wind blew upon it, encouraging the fire to grow, feeding upon the metal, charring it into charcoal. The metal began to peel away, the right corner of the aircraft leaking melted metal. Almost like tears, she thought quickly.

And there was the explosion.

The cannon below them had struck. There was a blinding flash, and then she could see nothing but thick smoke and debris. The Crimson Iris had been partially destroyed, and she could see Janga, desperate to get the aircraft going. She willed him to get out, save himself, that there was a spare parachute below the panel; but then the cat stumbled, and he faltered, crashing on the control panel and going limp. He no longer could control the Crimson Iris.

The dive down to the ground came, and the grounds rushed towards the aircraft, swallowing it up in its dark crevasse.

She opened her eyes. There were beads of sweat running down her forehead, and she felt feverish; but she knew clearly what she had to do. She reached quickly for the drawer, taking out something small. It was coated in glass for a reason, and it was her duty now to break it. She sat down on an armchair, and taking a pen, scribbled out a quick note.

She took a deep breath and broke the glass, and darkness set in.

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"There is no one here." A boy said softly as he walked up the stairs. "Garlen abandoned it, didn't he? It's not destroyed."

"There should be something or someone." Another boy - he sounded older - replied. "It can't be deserted for a reason."

"You two-" A man's voice interrupted. "Come, look at this." There was a flurry of footsteps, and the door was flung open. Nothing was moving inside the room, and the moonlight shone innocently on the bed, which was empty and the bedsheets thrown back as if the owner had fled in hurry. The window was partly open. The three looked around, in momentary confusion, until the older boy found something.

"There's broken glass down by that armchair." He whispered, and tiptoed over to the chair.

"Guntz, what are you-" The younger boy's protest was met by a gasp. "What is it?"

"Look, Klonoa." The boy known as Guntz pointed over to the armchair. A girl sat there, her eyes closed, her head resting at the back of the armchair. Her lips were slightly parted, her face expressionless, her hands lightly resting on the blanket. Her light hair fell in a dark curtain around her shoulders. A few more small fragments of glass littered the blanket's soft surface.

"That girl must have been an ally of Garlen's once. She might have decided to write a message to send to someone." He frowned. "I don't know how that could have been achieved, though. The Volkies sent up the bombers and blew up the general base once we'd told them what was going on. That was three hours ago. But we'll know." He went over to the girl, and gently shook her. "Miss? Miss, do plase wake up. We're here to help. Miss?"

But the girl sitting in the armchair never moved.

She had been dead for some time.

"It's a glass pill. Spies used it when they were caught, preferring to die than betray secrets they held. I suspect - " Guntz whispered, looking around. "She was a spy or ally of Garlen's and she committed suicide when she saw it was over."

The man was now shuffling over the documents on the table. "Have you seen this?" He called out. Guntz and Klonoa ran over, and saw that a hurriedly scribbled note was in his hand.

"Did that girl write it? It doesn't seem very neat." Guntz mused. Klonoa looked up.

"What do you think it means, Pango?" The man known as Pango shook his head, looking a little lost and bewildered.

"Whatever it may be, she deserves peace. I will alert the authorities soon. No, not the Volkies. See how she wears an emblem." He pointed to the girl's shoulder. "That's the Sky Temple sign. She must have been a priestess." He bowed his head softly in a gesture of respect, placing the note on her hands. The others followed, and there was silence for a while.

"Come." And the trio walked quietly out of the room.

There was no sound, no movement, and the room was still. The wind blew through the room, lightly ruffling the curtains, the long hair of the girl. The note fluttered a little, but did not fall; it twisted around a little, and then lay faceup to show what it said.

'I'll meet you again soon. You won't be alone.'

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It takes me a full year to write just short of a 40,000 target and 20 chapters. That is quite underwhelming in itself, but hey, I'm not regretting it. I'm writing faster nowadays and besides the quality is what counts (come to think of it, there are stories of mine which are totally crap and unneccessarily long...)

I'd like to thank you to everyone who reviewed, and stood by me. Kiss and Tell is now officially complete and I shall move on to other projects, especially the DoaHT anthology. I can tell you there are two more anthology collections coming along as well, but they'll be a lot more easier to manage. The first of those will appear very soon, and the other will come around December.

Thank you.

-Solitary Shadow -