| What Now? Part Two |
A week later…
"You've got to admit… Kurei-han has a fabulous retirement plan," remarked Joker, gazing thoughtfully out across the Tokyo skyline. The penthouse apartment took up nearly the entire top story of one of Kurei's Tokyo skyscrapers. It had a fabulous view… with the added bonus that it was more than adequate to house three retired assassins, plus their truckloads of Stuff.
"I kind of think Kurei-sama let us go, just to free up some room at the Mansion," grinned Raiha, leaning against the window. "It was nice, in the mountains… but this is pretty, too."
Neon remained silent, staring sightlessly out the window. How could the others be so cavalier about this? Weren't they hurt? Had they stopped caring? Did they not feel betrayed?
Betrayed. She laughed silently to herself. There were few people in Japan who were in such a cushy position as she was right now… but did Kurei really think she would be satisfied with these material things? The job. The money. The penthouse. The expensive art on the walls, the designer clothes crammed into the closets, the classic cars in the underground parking garage. Joker had haggled for one of the Delahaye Cabriolets… Raiha had held out for a Dusenberg. Neon had sniffed about how impractical those were for the streets of Tokyo, and had randomly selected a brand-new one. She had no idea what it was… but it was small. And blue. And shiny. And practical. And cute.
Did Kurei think these… things… would make up for his absence? That these gifts would make up for his betrayal?
They had remained faithful to him even in his darkest hours. Why did he think he could abandon them now? Normally, she wouldn't question Kurei's decision. Had she outlived her usefulness? She doubted it. Was there a need for the Uruha? Maybe not like before, seeing as how Mori was dead, and Kurei had changed. But if she was useless now, she would have preferred to be told so point-blank, as opposed to having it sickeningly sugar-coated by gifts.
Funny, Kurei had never been the one to sugar-coat things.
Her mind drifted back to when she had saved him after the UBS III, when he had been shot. She had raced up and tackled him, sending them both flying off the cliff and into the sea below. Amazing, how neither of them had been dashed to pieces against the rocks… amazing, that they had washed up safely on a shore. Kurei had remained unconscious for ten days after that… she remembered the terror that Mori would find them and kill them… the hunger at not being able to find much in the way of food… the long hours of holding watch over Kurei's bed, waiting patiently for him to awaken and give her her next command.
Her eyes narrowed as she remembered how emotional he had been upon waking. He had actually cried… her Kurei! Crying! So many years of repressing his emotions… having them all come flooding to the surface at once… he had expressed how sick he was of the killing. How he just wanted it to stop.
And she had tried to support him in his weakness. No wonder he had broken… he had been through so much trauma during his long, bitter life. And she had told him if he wanted to stop, he should stop. But she would always be there with him, there to help him.
Did Kurei hate her because she had caught him in a moment of weakness?
She remembered having related Kurei's and Kurenai's story in full to Recca, after her Uruha Oto fight. Kurei had found out about that. When she had gone back to the mansion, she had been summoned into his presence. He had been furious with her… he hadn't held anything back when he had struck her. Or kicked her when she was lying on the floor. Or stamped on her head. He had been justifiably angry, of course, and what he did was merely in keeping with the laws of the Uruha. Kurei didn't want anyone to feel sorry for him… he didn't want Neon- or anyone else- to try and justify his actions. He was Kurei, and he would do what he wanted to. It didn't matter what they thought of him… but his private life was to be kept private.
She had never told anyone about their dialogue. Even though she had caught him in his weakness, she suspected that him-in-tears counted as a private moment. If Kurei wanted to tell the others he was sick of the killing… sick of the violence and the bloodshed… he would tell them.
Remembering what had happened after she had tried to comfort him, her cheeks flushed slightly. During the course of her work as a member of the Uruha, she had capitalized on her physical assets more than once. Amazing, how ordinarily brilliant and cunning men could be so foolish and off-guard in the presence of a warm, pliant, beautiful woman professing adoration. But with Kurei… it had been special. It wasn't like the other times, where she had merely been using her body to accomplish a task. It had been indescribably different… she had given him part of her soul then. It had been warm and beautiful and real… or was it real only to her?
Had she been fooled by him into thinking there would ever be anything more than just his servant? Whether his maid or a member of his Jyushinshuu, was she only an underling to be used and commanded at whim?
She thought he had felt the same way… he had seemed so… different… afterwards. She had been sleeping soundly for the first time in ten days, secure in the knowledge that her Kurei was finally safe and well. Kurei had been outside, alone with his own thoughts, when that fat man had attacked. She had heard them jabbering about something, and it had sounded like it would have led to a fight. Ordinarily, Kurei would have dealt with threats then and there in the most final of ways. But he was holding back… for some reason.
By the time she had wiggled back into her dress and run outside, Kurei had obviously received a few punches to the face from the monster who had intruded upon their peace. She had rushed up—and had been sent skidding back, propelled by a vicious blow. It hadn't been very bad, as far as vicious blows went… she'd had worse in her time. But it had seemed to trigger something in Kurei. Whatever had been holding him back snapped… their visitor was soon sliced into many pieces by Kurei's Flame. It was all fuzzy in her memory, as she had been barely hanging on to consciousness at the time… but the next thing she knew, she had been left abandoned in the hospital.
Kurei had left her, after she had promised never to leave him.
She had found him again… and he once more pushed her away.
Neon pursed her lips, clenching her fists into tight little balls. So that was how Kurei wanted things? Fine! She'd show him. She'd accept this mission, just like she'd accept any other mission from him. That's all it was… just a mission. A very, very extended one. But she wouldn't allow this to devastate her life. Rather, she'd use it to make herself stronger. She would survive this ordeal. Sure, the numb feeling in her heart was a thousand times more painful than any bodily injury she'd ever dealt with.
But she would blacken her own name if she allowed herself to drown in her sorrows. Kurei would not remember her as a strong, capable, independent individual. Rather, he would remember her as a tearful, weak, pleading woman under the illusion he would ever return her feelings.
And that was something her pride would not stand for. She straightened her back, drawing herself up to her full height.
Joker and Raiha exchanged a glance. They had been silently watching the emotions flickering over her face. But it looked like she had arrived at a resolution.
Raiha allowed himself a small, approving smile. Good for you, Neon-san, he mentally applauded. ::We'll get this worked out… eventually… but you have to be strong for now.