Author's Note: This fic takes place after Neon and
Jishou have completed a mission and are returning back to Kurei's mansion. It
is NOT a Neon x Jishou fic. (I really don't see those two together, [besides,
I'm horrible at mush. ^_^] though it'll probably be hilarious to do a
romantic fic on that pair… *snickers*) It's only meant to try and develop
Jishou further, a character who gets extremely little coverage despite the fact
that he's one of the Uruha Juushinshuu, and find out why Neon and Jishou seem
to be such good friends later on in the series (Neon cries when he is killed by
Magensha [Manga only, I think]), even though they're clearly seen arguing a
lot before the Urabutousatsujin. (Volume 15 of the manga)
"Jishou, could you please slow down?" Neon grumbled as she trailed behind the tall, well-built man.
"It's not like we're in a hurry to get back to the
mansion! What are you, a steamroller?"
Stopping so suddenly that she nearly crashed into his back, he turned around and scowled at her.
"Stop your sniping, woman! Why don't you try walking
faster instead? It's not my fault women are such weaklings!" He pronounced
the word "woman" almost as if it were an insult.
Neon's eyes blazed with anger and she had the momentary
urge to pick up her fukyo waon and blast him in the face with a nice, painful
Rhapsody. It was widely known that there was no love lost between the two Uruha
Assassins. Their training sessions together almost invariably ended up with the
two refusing to speak to each other, and an easy-going Raiha trying to patch
things up between the two. As it was, she gripped the afore-mentioned madougu so
tightly that her knuckles turned white.
I must keep calm. She told herself. She didn't
think Kurei would be too pleased if she had to drag an unconscious – Or dead,
she added mentally with satisfaction – companion all the way back. I must
keep calm. I must keep calm. She repeated that phrase over and over in her
mind like a mantra as she trudged after the subject of her thoughts, various
bloody scenarios flashing through her mind. She wondered what it would be like
to wrap her hands around his throat and squeeze…
Suddenly, Jishou stopped in his tracks again, and this time
Neon succeeded in smashing face first into him. It didn't help that the man
was as well muscled and as solidly built as an ox. Or, to the auburn-haired
musician, more like a rock. She tried to feel her nose (or what was left of it)
to see how much damage had been dealt, but it was numb from pain.
"Itai! What the hell do you think you're doing, you
asshole?!" she shrieked at him. Her temper had already been at its boiling
point, but enough was enough. If he thought she was going to just stand by and
take all this abuse quietly, he had better think again. Swinging her flute at
him, it connected with the target's head with a resounding "THWACK!"
"OW! WOULD YOU QUIT IT?!" Jishou roared as he tried to
fend off her barrage of blows as she came at him with her flute left, right and
center.
"I DIDN'T MEAN IT, OKAY? NOW STOP HITTING ME!"
Glaring at him, she lowered her flute. Crossing her arms,
she continued to glower silently at him as he massaged his head gingerly.
" So if your attempt to break my nose wasn't done on
purpose, pray tell me, what were you trying to achieve by stopping in the middle
of the road like a buffoon?" she asked, voice dripping with barely concealed
anger.
"Did it occur to you that if you had been patient enough
to wait, instead of trying to bludgeon me to death with your 'flute of
doom', (Author's note: Those in the Uruha RPG will find this phrase
familiar. ^_^) I would have explained my reason to you?" The glaring
contest continued the two before he rolled his eyes again and looked away,
muttering something which sounded very much like, "Touchy wench". Neon
bristled. Before she could lunge at him again, however, he spoke.
"It's snowing."
Neon was about to explode at him for making such a silly
statement like that, but caught sight of the expression on his face and stopped.
It was deadly serious.
"And not just any snow either. Look around you. Don't
you think it's falling a bit too quickly? I think we're in for a
blizzard."
Gazing around her, Neon's eyes widened. She had not
noticed the snow, being too preoccupied in her earlier thoughts. But now, even
as she looked, the snowflakes seemed to fall faster and faster. This was bad
news. Very bad. The two were not equipped to deal with a situation such as this.
The weather reports back home had said that it wasn't supposed to start
snowing in this area until next week, let alone a blizzard, and thus they had
not expected one.
"I'm going to kill the weatherman once we reach
home," Neon muttered as brushed some snow off her shoulder.
"Save that for later," Jishou advised. "We need to
look for some shelter first."
With that, the two set off, hurrying as much as they could
without actually running. Their progress was hindered by the snow that continued
to fall thickly around them, piling up into thick drifts that they practically
had to wade through. If they find shelter any time soon, they would certainly
end up frozen, as stiff and cold as marble statues. Neon idly wondered what it
would be like to perish like that instead of the way she had always thought she
would go - to die for her one and only love.
She was suddenly jolted out of her thoughts as she felt
Jishou poke her in the ribs.
"What?" she asked. Her tone was neutral and lacked the
usual bite it had whenever she was talking to someone she disliked – in this
case, Jishou. This was not the time to quarrel with her fellow assassin. They
would need to cooperate and work together if they wanted to survive the storm.
Besides, she just didn't have the strength right now to shout at him; she
could feel the beginnings of a headache coming on.
Jishou was slightly surprised that she hadn't snapped at
him, but decided to take it as a blessing. He didn't know how long this
temporary truce between them would last, but he'll be damned if he didn't
take advantage of it for now.
"I think I see a building up ahead," the blonde, shaggy
haired man nodded his head in the direction he was indicating. A barely
recognizable blob of brown could be seen, threatening to be overwhelmed by the
stark whiteness of the snow around it.
"It looks a little rundown, but it's only temporary,
anyway. I'm sure it'll be sufficient enough to protect us until the worse of
the storm is over," he said as the two reached the building. The door swung
open as he pushed it lightly, its rusty hinges creaking their protest.
"I think it's deserted," he remarked, scanning the
contents of the house.
"And judging from the state of it, it's not been used
for a very long time," Neon replied dryly, slowly running a finger
along a table, all that remained of the previous owner's furniture besides the
three chairs surrounding it.
"I wouldn't call this place 'a little rundown',
Jishou. More like
Jishou simply shrugged his shoulders.
"At least we're safe from the blizzard," he replied.
Then he noticed that Neon was frowning worriedly.
"What's wrong?"
"Even though we're sheltered from the snow, the cold
air still sweeps in through the cracks in the walls. They aren't very well
made; Swiss cheese would probably keep us warmer than these rotting boards."
"You're exaggerating, aren't you?"
"Of course I'm exaggerating. But not by too much. I
seriously doubt we'll be able to keep warm in this shack. We're safe from
being smothered in the snow outside, of course, but I doubt we'll be of much
use to Kurei-sama after we freeze to death. And the only other thing we have
here besides the decaying furniture is this." She bent down, picked something
off the ground and held it up. It was a thin piece of what seemed to have been a
blanket but was now… not a blanket. It would be rather hard to describe just
exactly how torn and tattered it was, so let us be prudent and not waste the
words. Leave the visuals up to your imagination.
Jishou, needless to say, was horrified.
"You mean we've only got one blanket?" he practically
shrieked, eyes threatening to pop out of their sockets.
Neon nodded, looking none too happy herself, although she
managed to mask it much better than her fellow Uruha Asassin.
"I guess that means we're going to have to share it,"
she said in a monotone, trying very hard not to let her distaste show on her
face. In an ordinary situation, just being in the same room as him was
enough to spark off an argument between the two. But this was no ordinary
situation.
Although both of them were clearly unhappy about it, they
had no choice but to share the blanket. What made matters worse was the blanket
wasn't exactly what one would call big. By unspoken agreement, Neon rolled
over to rest on her right, while Jishou on his left, backs facing each other.
That way they could make all the disgusted faces they wanted to without
offending the other. Not that they minded the offending bit, – heck, they did
it all the time! – it was just that neither was in the mood to quarrel.
"You aren't going to do anything funny, are you, Jishou?"
Neon asked him warily from over her shoulder.
His eyes widened before he burst out laughing.
"What's so funny?" she snapped.
"You?" he spluttered, almost choking with laughter.
"Who in his right mind would even want to go near a woman as fat and
ugly as you? You're so fat you probably don't even need this blanket to keep
warm!"
So much for their temporary truce.
Neon seethed. Stifling an urge to throttle him, she waited
until he had finished chuckling.
"Well then," she shot back, voice deceptively calm.
"I suppose you don't have to worry about freezing to death either. I've
heard that most of our body heat is lost from our heads, and since you have
nothing but empty air in yours…" she let her voice trail off.
Jishou's back stiffened, but he kept quiet and simply
grunted, not bothering to reply. And he did start it, after all. Besides, he
knew when he was beaten. When provoked, Neon could deliver the most lethal
tongue-lashings that would leave even the most eloquent of speakers wincing, and
now was one of those times. He really didn't want to spend the rest of
the night trading spiteful insults.
