Disclaimer:
Let's just skip the giant disclaimer you can find in Chapter 1!
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FS
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x. ENCOUNTER in VENICE x.
(new version)
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He kills with total cruel efficiency
Leaves no traces
His evil past is still a mystery
So evasive
Behind his smiling face
There beats a heart of steel
As sharp as any blade
Don't let it touch you
("Moriarty", from Holmes Sweet Holmes, by John Debney (score) and Carol Mendelsohn (lyrics))
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The newlyweds had…
(Saturday, November 3rd 20xx, from different points of view)
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The newlyweds had left in a coach—another dream of koneko-chan's made true. Before the departure, the bridal bouquet had been thrown by koneko-chan and caught by hime-chan, who had used the occasion to console (or rather to propose to) Seiya. Haruka, perplexed, was convinced that hime-chan must have fallen victim to a serious form of enmeshment—an inevitable product of hime-chan's compassionate mind. During the empathizing process, hime-chan must have made the mistake of identifying herself with Seiya, whom she had little in common with, so much that she believed herself to be in love with him.
After the last guest had left (refusing to accept Michiru's offer to restore and refurnish the whole castle, Odango had insisted that everyone book hotel rooms in the vicinity)… after even Setsuna-san (who had to work on another variant of APTX), Michiru (who had to finish another sketch for her apocalypse series), and hime-chan (who had to go to bed early) had left as well, Haruka brought out the trash, put out the lights, and locked the gate. The full moon had climbed high in the cloudless night sky, and the air was fresh but not so cold that Haruka had to put on a coat yet. Setsuna-san had taken the car to drive Michiru and hime-chan back to the hotel, but Haruka had had her favourite Suzuki Hayabusa brought to Venezia, Haruka's favourite Italian restaurant—the place where Haruka always parked her bike whenever she visited Michiru's castle.
It would have been anachronistic to ride a Suzuki Hayabusa on Michiru's estate, where any modern vehicle would stick out as a giant eyesore. In the never-ending battle between convenience and style, between comfort and elegance, the victory of either side was no cause for celebration. And yet, if it hadn't been for "Charade", Haruka would have enjoyed the solitary walk through the woods. Haruka had never believed in apparitions and ghosts. Whatever wild animal that was still roaming this part of the world must be timid enough to stay out of her way. Clumsiness was a concept Haruka still struggled to comprehend. And thus the absence of people—the conspicuous unavailability of assistance in times of need—just meant to Haruka that she was unlikely to get into trouble.
As things were—despite this lovely spring weather, despite the beautiful moonlit night—Haruka's mind kept winding back to the moment when Ami-chan escorted tonight's troublemaker out of the hall. Had the whole drama which unfolded afterwards been unnecessary and preventable, as it seemed in retrospect? Haruka realized now that part of it had been her fault. Her overreaction might have been human and natural, but it didn't change the fact that her trauma had proven to be a weakness which could easily be exploited—
Haruka had been so lost in thoughts that she only evaded the blows at the last moment—instinctively, effortlessly, as though time had slowed down and her body was moving on autopilot. Her instincts and reaction speed belonged to a demon and not a human being, Jean had once told her. And now, just when Haruka needed them, the innate talents and the instincts which had helped Haruka beat much taller and better-trained opponents in Jean's fencing classes had also helped Haruka knock out two of her attackers before Haruka even knew what the hell was happening although she was acutely aware of a growing sense of panic—a feeling Haruka wasn't familiar with.
Haruka was used to remaining cool and fast at all times, under all circumstances. She must have been holidaying for too long. She had been basking in the glorious domestic bliss at home, focusing on practicing piano accompaniments for Michiru, and building imaginary worlds with hime-chan instead of keeping up with her daily physical drills as planned. It wasn't just the one cocktail she had indulged in at Odango's wedding and her distraught mental state after the Charade incident—it was this arrogant, laid-back attitude, which had become her default mindset after the group had disbanded. Peace, however temporary, had softened and weakened her.
The third attacker—unusually tall and impressively resilient—didn't go down as fast as he should have, and Haruka knew he could become a problem if the fight went on for too long. The other two might also wake up while she was still fighting, in which case she had better make an exit lest she want to ruin her new suit. Arrogance, once acquired, was hard to shake off, she realized, when she once again narrowly evaded a blow.
When Number Three broke down at last and Haruka could study the knife she had looted in the light of her flashlight, she remained at a loss about why she had been attacked. She was no longer accustomed to being assaulted unless she was on a "special mission"—classical pianists weren't known to be keen on any types of close combat, which could damage their nimble fingers. Even when Haruka was still a professional racer and quite used to being hounded by hooligans, her attackers weren't experienced in "real" fighting. These men, as Haruka could easily tell, were professionals, and Haruka knew she had been luckier than anyone should hope to be. Her form was terrible, and she had been at a distinct disadvantage in her tailored silk suit and fancy shoes. If she had reacted only a split second later, she might have been seriously injured by the first blows. Outnumbered as she was, fighting back afterwards would have been futile.
Someone—another attacker—was trying to sneak up on her from behind. When she whipped around to face them, she discovered that Seiya, appearing out of nowhere, had already been subjecting her new opponent to an extremely nasty judo choke, rendering the stranger unconscious before they could utter a cry.
"This one has a gun," said her unlikely rescuer, sounding slightly apologetic, as though he was afraid of Haruka admonishing him for using a move which, applied a little too long, would have killed his enemy. Haruka wasn't one of those apathetic, self-righteous, bureaucratic judges who would have asked Seiya whether it was "really necessary to go so far", whether Seiya had mentally gone through all the possible risks and considered the mental and physical repercussions before choosing the appropriate move.
There were only two types of great fighters, Maeda once told Haruka—the experienced ones whose gut instantly knew the right move and the talented ones who didn't know but intuitively went for the most efficient, most devastating choice nonetheless, and learned to keep doing it. The people who would rack their brains to think during an ongoing fight and waste even a split second to choose weren't made for real combat, maybe not even for tournaments. In situations like this one, people only survived when luck was on their side or when they were like Seiya and Haruka, who could handle a fight to the death. A true samurai didn't fool around once the sword had been unsheathed—Jean had taught Haruka to feel the moment when blood had to be shed. Don't ever slow down and doubt when your opponent carries a deadly weapon!
Why hadn't the fourth guy drawn his pistol though—did he seriously underestimate Haruka after watching her beat up all his friends? Searching the pockets of the men didn't produce anything interesting but a few stashes of cash and the address of Michiru's castle scrawled on the back of a postcard, on which Haruka recognized Van Gogh's Starry Night. This wasn't a random ambush for the purpose of robbery—whoever sent these men was an art lover or maybe a visitor of The Museum of Modern Art. Michiru once had an exhibition in New York. Haruka hadn't noticed anything unusual when she attended it, but she hadn't been with Michiru for the whole day. Haruka recalled that she had felt overwhelmed and drained after a few hours of socializing, and that she had left Michiru and Setsuna-san alone to go for a walk.
"Where is your car?" Seiya asked, whereupon Haruka informed him with a smirk that, if he wanted a ride, he had to make do with her bike.
"If this was an offer, I'm not going to decline," he said, and fixed his suit and his shoes, even adjusted his socks as though he had to prepare himself for her Suzuki Hayabusa. His two moody siblings, who had abandoned him, had also refused to send the limousine when he called them, he informed her. He had been walking on foot to the next restaurant, where he would have been waiting for a taxi while working on a song if it hadn't been for this lucky coincidence.
She wondered why he hadn't arrived at the restaurant before her, but he must have been walking aimlessly around the neighbourhood to ease his pain after Odango's wedding, and she felt sorry enough for him not to touch on it. On their way to the restaurant's parking lot, Haruka wondered whether she should mention "Charade" but decided to let it go. It wouldn't be fair to confront Seiya with a problem he couldn't fix. Changing her own attitude to the song was better than causing him distress.
"I'm sorry about what happened tonight," Seiya began, addressing the topic head-on just when she had resolved to ignore it for him. "None of us were aware of the implications… It was a terrible misunderstanding."
It surely wasn't a misunderstanding, but Seiya, who adored his brothers, didn't need to know. Haruka had almost admired the second Light's chilling composure when Ami-chan exploded in the corridor even though Haruka had seen the expression in his eyes, which betrayed his emotions for a brief moment. The intensity of it shocked Haruka—she hadn't expected him to hide such a profound resentment. Since it was gone at the speed of lightning which only struck once, she could only wonder what it was. It didn't look like envy, or jealousy, or just rage. She thought it was contempt at its deepest, darkest. For a moment, she wondered whether "Charade" had been really about her as she thought, whether she was only collateral damage and the revenge was meant for Ami-chan, who had put her heart into the preparation of this wedding.
The second Light hadn't put up a fight, much to Haruka's relief, although the oldest Light had left with him and people had been wondering why two of their three superstars had disappeared so suddenly. They had offered no explanation for the "Charade" prank, not even an apology to the sweet, unsuspecting bride when she approached them. Taiki Kou had only gazed down on the girls from the dizzying heights of his aloof intellect, moved his handsome head in his slow, deliberate, reptilian sway, and gently informed Odango-atama that he had become too tired to endure the social exposure now that dinner, "the best part of the party", was over.
Yaten Kou, after brushing Minako-chan aside, had placed a reassuring hand on his younger brother's arm before following him with a quiet but clearly audible "What he meant is we're both about to snap and to break something, and we can't promise that the things we break will only be your vases and no one's neck."
Odango-atama's hand around Haruka's wrist and Minako-chan's silent plea had been the only reasons why Haruka hadn't instantly shut up the jerk (Michiru, whose cold anger and dark apocalyptic fantasies could give even Haruka nightmares, had agreed to stay in the garden with Setsuna-san, who was making a concerted effort to prevent her from "skinning alive whoever had hurt Haruka"). Seiya, sorrowful about the "misunderstanding", had tried to deescalate the situation and promised to stay with Odango and the girls, which hadn't resonated well with his older siblings although they eventually agreed to leave him to his own devices. It was hard to grasp how the same education which had raised someone like Seiya had also produced Yaten and Taiki, how such a decent, amiable person like Kakyuu-san could have loved such antisocial, entitled siblings. In these cases, education must have lost to genetics. But Haruka wasn't going to dwell on the tired, dead question of nature versus nurture.
"In a year or two, the whole city could play 'Charade' and I wouldn't care, I swear!" she told Seiya instead. It was good to experience the full scope of repercussions of your own weakness, to realize how silly and vulnerable your emotions had made you. She would learn to let go of her mental issue—it wouldn't be more difficult than dropping a nasty habit. Maybe she should acquire adult vices as a replacement, she joked. For example drinking, or at least smoking…
"It is not silly, and it wasn't a prank, if that's what you believe!" Seiya snapped at her. "I could explain it you, but it's not my secret! I don't think I should do it."
"Then don't!" she snapped back, exasperated. "We can agree that people are people and will remain people! That explanation always suffices!"
"Sometimes people aren't as bad as you would expect them to be," he said, mysteriously.
"No, but sometimes, they will surprise even me!"
Whatever the true reason for this drama was, Haruka didn't need it. She despised gossip, and she was sure Seiya hated it as well. She could still see Ami-chan's unshed tears, could still hear Ami-chan's suppressed sob—she could still feel the visceral heartbreak when the poor girl learned that the person she had adored (and maybe secretly loved?) was a smooth asshole, who clearly wasn't worth the years of longing she had wasted on him. The main lesson to be learned was never to lower your guard even when you believed yourself to be among friends—not when they hadn't proven their worth. Haruka was glad that it was just Seiya's brother, that it hadn't been one of her own best friends. Because after such an experience, it would be hard for her to trust people again.
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