Chapter I - Mission 1
A Reason to Kill
A loud crash sounded outside. There was not even
a twitch from the two. Recca and Domon tumbled into the room, locked in a
fistfight and came face to face with Mikagami and Fuuko staring at each other.
Both bodies were tense and looked ready to pounce. "Whadda?" Recca
asked, fight forgotten.
"No, nothing," Mikagami said, eyes
trailing off Fuuko. "I'm telling you first, you're going to pay for
everything you destroy in this house and within its boundaries."
Immediate effect.
Without a word, both the wreckers sauntered out
of the room, admiring the ceiling in unison. Mikagami shut the door softly
behind them and locked it. There was silence in the room for the moment, as each
openly contemplated on how to react. Finally, it was Mikagami who first turned
away from the door and faced his teammate and possibly, partner. His expressions
hardened as he met the emerald green eyes. "Why are you working for the
Company?"
Fuuko's eyes narrowed. "Don't talk to me
like that. You know very well I can ask you the same thing. You don't mess with
my business and I won't question yours. Fair exchange."
Mikagami weighed his losses and benefits for a
moment before relaxing slightly. "Fine."
Both stood unmoving for more than a minute,
waiting for each other to make the first move. It was not awkwardness, but
rather, a case of caution. Mikagami no longer trusted Fuuko, and vise versa.
Because it was not Hokage anymore; there was so much at stake in their game of
killing, and both the teenagers knew that very well.
They might have as well been enemies, as they
stood from across the room, staring each other down.
This time, it was Fuuko who first backed down.
She held out her hand with a mocking smile. "Nice to meet you, Metallica."
Mikagami turned and open the door again, ignoring
the hand. He took a step out. "Remember, Fuuko: Once a killer, always a
killer."
Fuuko lost her smile. "And kindly enlighten
me on the philosophy behind this saying."
"There is no way to get the blood off your
hands once you touch it," was all he said, as he softly closed the door.
"We won't talk now. Later, in the evening."
As the door clicked shut, the cover of the cold
assassin crumbled and Fuuko fell back onto the bed, having lost the support that
came with deception. The sunlight came in from the through the dust curtains,
and fell on her face. Fuuko put an arm over her eyes and sighed tiredly, feeling
dead and numb inside. Why Mikagami…? Why him?
Better than any of the others, right? her
other voice reminded her. You should be glad it's not Koganei or Recca…
at least Mikagami fits in with that role…
Shit! What the hell am I thinking of…?
"And what the hell am I doing with my life…?"
she whispered, to the kind ears that were no longer there. "What am I doing…?
Tell me, mum… tell me…"
Don't fall into self-pity. DON'T FALL
INTO SELF-PITY. She's not here anymore, so don't even think about the
impossible. Don't dream.
Don't dream… yes… can't dream…
she ignored the tears that ran down the side of the face. So it's Mikagami
then…
Yes, the other side of her head replied.
Fuuko sighed to herself. The bad thing about
that is that he's my friend… I don't want to know that at any minute, I
can find one of my pals dead with a hole in the head.
She buried her face in her hands.
And the good thing is that he has no
relatives who would give a shit about whether he's dead and alive.
---
Mikagami sat down in front of his computer and
stared at the blank screen, face as cold, as emotionless, as usual. He had not
yet figured out how to react to the new discovery of Fuuko's alternate
identity. Tempest… Operator Tempest…
Somehow it was just so hard to add the 'Operator'
in, so hard to imagine the lively and bubbly girl standing in a pool of blood
and death, with a gun… the gun in her hand. He could not deny that he
felt sad. Tokiya Mikagami felt sad with his heart, that a young girl with a
bright future was being put to waste like that. Metallica felt sad, with his
head, recognized the word 'sad' and then immediately raised his caution
against a potential rival.
Mikagami wondered what was going on with him. But
then again, he had lived with this almost-split personality for more than half a
decade. He calmly shook away his thoughts and turned on the computer. No use
harassing himself over the issue: the irreversible had been done. There was no
way Fuuko was going to free herself anymore.
The PC finished booting quickly and ended in a
wallpaper of kaleidoscopic patterns, carrying the message of how confusing and
yet at the same time, how similar the society could be. Mikagami clicked on the
'report' icon and started typing.
Operation Code PurgeManiac
Primary operator: Metallica
Secondary operator: Tempest
Notification: I have already contacted party in
reference. There is no more need for an arranged rendezvous.
Mission perceived. Mission acknowledged. Queries
= 0 Verification required.
He waited for his agent to reply. The house was
quiet, more so in the aftermath of The Animal Invasion. Quiet was bad. Quiet was
unhealthy. It leaves a vacuum in the mind, which creates the need for things
like thoughts to be filled in. But even so, Mikagami loved the quiet, the
solitude…
Mission Code PurgeManiac
Primary operator: Metallica
Secondary operator: Tempest
Mortal Target: Assassin Code Maniac
Dateline: In six months from day of accepting
operation
Location: Currently unknown
Orders: Eliminate Operator Maniac. Subject is
full-fledged assassin, does not specialize in terrorism from file records. Rank
Two in Company. Subject aborted mission three weeks before and absconded.
Location currently unknown. Suspected to have approximately 3 subordinates
accompanying in his flight, taking the minimum. Objective for assassination not
to be disclosed. No queries with regards to aforementioned objective would be
acknowledged. Operator Tempest would partner you for this mission. You are to
assist her in ways you see fit, employing your experience. Both assassins not to
be captured. Leave no traces of activities. We believe that she may expose her
full potential through this mission. Mission is not to be rejected. Orders will
not change.
Commission percentage: 40% (US$ 1,200,000)
Fuuko was going to come back later, once she had
shaken off the others. Mikagami did not know why, but the tag of 'operator'
was oppressive. They were like hot iron, used to brand property. 'Operator'
was a sign of slavery to the death for the Company, and defection or
incapability that mars the sign was the death sentence. Marked, Mikagami
thought dully. Marked like pigs.
Initial verification processed. Final
verification required.
Hell was throwing away your pride to achieve
something you do not really want..
Hell was walking through raw, beautiful and
destructive fire, knowing you caused the loss of a few more lives.
Hell was participating in crossfire while an old
and unknowingly granny stands in the path of your bullet.
Hell was knowing the severity of your
unforgivable sins and yet still pull the trigger on it.
Hell was going through everything and in its
aftermath, lie on the bed, stare at the ceiling, and discover that you don't
know what you are selling your soul for.
Hell was when you alienate yourself from the
world, telling yourself in comfort that the society brought this on you, and it
doesn't matter if you sit at the computer the next day, confirming the amount
of electronic cash you've received for taking away the happiness of the
countless people still living but had lost something more.
Overwrite previous orders regarding mortal
target.
New orders: Target assassin Code Maniac not to be
killed. Capture target alive and/or send target to specified location.
Option 1 - Hold target captive until dateline.
Specify number of agents required to attend handing over of target. Specify
location. Specify time. Specify other requirements.
Option 2 - Schedule a date to hand over target before
dateline. Specify number of agents required to attend handing over of target.
Specify location. Specify time. Specify other requirements.
Hell was suppressing memories of the last
destruction, then sitting at the keyboard, to yet again accept the duty from
Death.
Initial verification acknowledged. Final
verification required.
Final verification for mission acquired from
client and accounting personnel of authority. Official consent granted. Proceed
with mission immediately.
Hell was, after all, life.
The door opened.
"I take it that you're not followed."
Mikagami said, not looking away from the screen.
"Hey, I'm Fuuko the wind goddess, wielder
of Fuujin. Are you looking down on me, Mi-chan?" Fuuko glomped him from
behind.
Mikagami went stiff and gritted his teeth. He
wondered for the nth time why he put up with her.
Fuuko detached herself after having no response.
"Why am I oh so lucky as to have a chance to work with the great Tokiya
Mikagami anyway?"
"Coincidence." But Mikagami himself was
having doubts. The Company knew he did not like to work with partners, so he
almost always did solitary work. His last permanent partner died after less than
5 operations with him, partly because of his negligence towards imparting
information. Maybe the Company knew both of them were teammates… and there was
a huge possibility of that, from the underground fame they had gotten for
defeating Kokom's top team.
Is that why they put us together…? How
would it benefit them?
"Do you think this partnership is
permanent?" Fuuko asked, as she flung herself on a big cushion in one
corner.
"I pray not," Mikagami muttered,
furiously typing away.
"What did you say?"
"Nothing that a monkey can understand,"
Mikagami muttered again. "Come over."
Fuuko bounced up and joined him at the computer.
"What's up?"
"Information," Mikagami said simply.
What Fuuko saw was a map of a district with names
she did not recognize, and a red cross in the middle marking one building which
stood out in blue. "What's that?"
"The information centre. I tried just now
and couldn't find anything regarding our target online. We'll have to go to
this place," he informed.
"Why not available online? I thought
Information Technology rules the world these days?" Fuuko asked, bored.
"Creators are smart, but users are smarter.
One security system can always be broken through by a hacker better at codes.
That's why one can always be traced on the web," Mikagami replied,
leaning back into his chair.
"So it's safer to go to this place?"
Fuuko scoffed.
"It's safer for them. But when you have
knowledge of the Company's existence, it's danger everywhere. Doesn't make
a difference anymore."
"You're awfully chatty today, aren't
you?" Fuuko remarked. "Well, where's this place?"
"Suburb area of Los Angeles, South,"
Mikagami replied mechanically.
"WHAT??!!!" Fuuko exclaimed. "What
the hell?! What about school?" She rarely missed a day of school and the
prospect generally disgusted her.
"What's the difference? You'll still
fail. Just worse," Mikagami shrugged.
He ducked to avoid the punch that came his way.
"Go out now and think it over."
"I'll be back for you later…" Fuuko
muttered, classifying revenge as secondary. What was she going to do…? Oh,
yeah, like I'm in a position to choose… "Darn…"
She wandered past several locked rooms, and went
out into the garden through sliding glass pane in the hall. It was a beautiful
place, Fuuko admitted. She had not thought Mikagami would plant flowers in his
garden, less brightly colored ones. Her own used to be like that too, just
smaller. She remembered a time in her childhood when she tried to dig a pond
manually with a yellow toy spade, trying to create a bigger home for the two
terrapins her mother bought for her… those were the happy days…
She sat down on the ground beside a tree of
cherry blossoms that would soon be in full bloom. It was only February, and
Spring was just beginning to start… Mum loves Spring… wonder who will
take out the hinaningyo this year… It was always Mum bothering about these
things…
She twirled a blade of grass around her finger.
It was too much, as always. Slight things would trigger her memories and crack
the fragile dam that held them at bay. Such things would keep reminding her of
the reasons why she became a killer…
---
She sat down in the hall, on the stone cold
floor. It was the first day.
Then there was the wait. Waiting for people to
come and cry. She was not sure, but it seemed that she had been crying for so
long.
All that was left was a hollow emptiness and a
headache.
She looked at the long wooden box beside her and
wondered how it must feel like to be lying inside. Horrible, she supposed. But
what wouldn't her give to be the one lying in there right now, to replace the
still body which had lost its warmth.
The first of the guests stepped in. it was her
teammates, here to visit her, here to comfort
her, like they thought it would work.
Apparently they did.
Yanagi put her arms around her and sobbed into
her shoulders. Fuuko tried to smile. "Hey, I should be the one crying…"
She shook her head and mumbled something, then
continued to silently howl into Fuuko's limp body. Recca knelt down by their
side and put his arms around both of them. Domon picked up Ganko from one of the
corners and tried to comfort the wailing girl. Fuuko thought he was making it
worse; the young kid had stopped crying long ago.
Koganei just knelt down in front of the coffin to
mourn, and to try to stop his tears. Kagerou patted Fuuko on the shoulder. Her
hand felt aged and tired. "Don't be too sad, Fuuko… please… She has
left her worries behind to go to a better place…"
Left me behind, left bro behind, left her
whole family behind to cry for her, Fuuko thought, but she appreciated the
effort. Yeah, Kagerou should know. It's a good thing to be able to die, right?
It was still in the wee hours of the morning, too
early for it to be warm. Maybe that was why she felt cold, so cold and drained.
Stupid cold, makes people feel so numb… when will the sun be up?
"She's already dead. She won't come back
to life."
"Mikagami-kun!" Kagerou stared at him
in horror.
"Bastard! What do you think you're talking
about?" Recca grabbed his collar and punch him across the face. Mikagami
fell a step back.
"Did I say anything wrong?" he asked.
Recca took a step towards him again, the fury
rushing into his head.
"Stop it, Recca." Fuuko ordered. Her
voice was strong, cold, carrying over the rest of the noise, the uncouth
noise. Domon looked ready to pounce any moment. "I'm not crying, Mikagami."
"Good," he replied, "Because she's
already dead."
"Yeah. Murdered," Fuuko agreed flatly.
Silence. "Anyone wants some coffee?"
Mikagami turned to go. "Get over it
early." The door clicked shut.
---
The blade of grass snapped. Fuuko blinked.
Something wet fell onto her fingers. She rubbed her eyes in frustration. No, she
should not be crying now, not after one whole year. Dammit.
After the initial few days, she restored her mask
and continued with life, though everything seemed so different. She learned to
observe so many things anew, minor things that were never of her concern before.
Minor things like how the seat on the other side of the table was now
unoccupied, minor things like why the house was cold, so cold, because there was
no one to light the fire, and negligible things like the price of sugar.
The sense of loss was all that occupied her, as
she started from scratch, learning how to continue with life and accommodate
space, the empty space that was there all of a sudden, in the master bed room,
in the kitchen, beside her. It was hard to stand up, and her knees and elbows
were already raw from trying, painful even now.
Was that how Mikagami felt?
Fuuko felt nauseated, but other people's lives
did not matter that much after her mother died. She thought she would have
valued the whole concept of 'existence' even more, but she proved herself
wrong. Felt like there was no point in living any more, since life was hard to
endure.
The next thing that came to her mind was revenge.
The abominable word. The Menace.
And she thought Mikagami was stupid. Well, some
things you just have to experience. So here she was, bound for life by the
invisible contract she sealed with the Company, hoping to find some clue to who
her mother's murderer was. And she couldn't say she was all too successful.
She jumped up and stretched. Okay, no school
for a while. Ganko's not with me anymore, so it's fine. She considered
informing her brother of her departure for a moment, then snorted in disgust.
Like she could find him, anyway. He rarely returned home these days.
Ganko had been sent to live with Recca in Shiego's
small house when her mother… passed away. Fuuko alone was not enough to take
care of her and she would be all alone at home when Fuuko was out at school.
"What…?"
"No, Fuuko-neechan!! Don't send me away! I
promise I'll be good!! Please! I won't mess up the bedding anymore, please
don't send me away!"
"Fuuko…"
"…"
"How could you…? You know how much she
loves you."
"Someone… please, take care of her for
me."
"You have to reconsider this, Fuuko. It's
not funny."
"I'll take her."
"Recca!"
"No! I won't go with you! Fuuko-neechan,
please!!"
"I'm sorry…"
"FUUKO-NEECHAN!!! COME BACK!! DON'T LEAVE
ME HERE!!! FUUKOOOOOO!!!!"
Holy shit… I don't need this right
now. Fuuko ran her fingers through her hair.
She went back into house and padded up the wooden
staircase. Mikagami's house was dead too, no noise, so many echoes… it was
eerie, the size of the house and its lack of contents. She had peeked into some
rooms, and from what she saw, most of them were empty, or else just with one
chair in the middle…
It seemed like Mikagami only lived in one room,
which was the one he was in currently, at the end of the narrow and dark
corridor. Fuuko had not seen for herself, but Recca told her that he
accidentally stumbled into a place somewhere beside the hall where all
furnishings were covered by white sheets, and that was the only color in the
room. The place reminded her of bad horror movies with a manor and a psycho
owner that hated the world.
She was not surprised at how the description fit.
Some time, I'll have to get a few pots of
flowers from Domon and decorate this place. It's SO very dead, Fuuko
sighed. Wonder why he keeps his garden so colorful and…
She opened the door. Mikagami was still typing
away.
"Okay, just approximately how long will this
thing take?" Fuuko demanded, shutting the door behind her.
"We have six months to complete the mission.
The information and research will take one week at the maximum, inclusive of the
travelling time," he replied, not looking at her.
"I can't say 'no' and you know
it," Fuuko sighed in defeat. "When do we depart?"
"There should be no danger in us going
together. Formulate some excuses for those whom know you; we'll depart the day
after tomorrow."
"WHAT???!!!!!"
She seemed to be doing that a lot lately.
"Why so soon?!"
"What's the difference?"
Fuuko sighed. "At least give me some warning
before you spring such surprises on me again… why do I need a partner like you
anyway? I believe I AM capable enough to work on my own…"
"Not a problem of skills, but one of tactics
and experience. If they say you are new, then you haven't been working
for long. Last night proves it. Don't think I don't know someone cleared
that place out before I reached it. You left so little guards there, I'm
surprised no one noticed. You're lucky I know someone's been there
before. I made sure you were outside before I destroyed the electricity
connection to the door, or else you'll be trapped and- " he drew a line
across Fuuko's neck. "Dead."
A vein flickered on her forehead, marking her in
'danger' mode. "That reminds me, Tokiya Mikagami, what did you go blow up
that place for? I was almost blasted into bits!"
"No witnesses…" Mikagami whispered,
with an almost pensive look in his eyes.
"…What?" Fuuko faltered. "Just
to get rid of witnesses…? YOU KILLED SO MANY PEOPLE JUST TO GET RID OF
WITNESSES?!"
Mikagami did not say anything. Click. Clack.
Click. Click. He continued tying.
"I can't believe you're Mikagami…
What happened to you?" Fuuko shook her head in disbelief.
"Metallica can do what Tokiya Mikagami doesn't.
Metallica is a killer."
Like that is an excuse… Fuuko thought
bitterly. "I suppose I don't pertain the right to criticize your doings…
I just wish you feel guilty for it. For killing hell knows how many innocent
people who didn't know they were dying as the flames burned." Her eyes
flashed with the detached pain she felt.
There was only the sounding of keys being hit
again and again for the next few minutes. Mikagami's mind focused on his
computer and not on the words that still rang in his ears. Fuuko sat down on the
cushion in one corner, and stared at the floor.
"Are we going to discuss something, or are
we not?" Fuuko finally broke the silence.
"How are you going to explain your
absence?"
"Er…" Fuuko scratched her head, and
lost the somber mood. She really did not feel like dealing with guilt and
philosophy at that moment, and when those times come, it was best to resign to
suppressing feelings. "I'll just say my aunt in America died or
something. Don't worry, I'll think of something…"
*silence*
"Don't look at me like I'm stupid,
because I'm NOT!" Fuuko snapped indignantly.
"…"
"What about you? Have an excuse ready?"
"I'll just fake a letter of introduction
from a college and say I've been referred to there," Mikagami shrugged.
"Oh, the cheek of it all…" Fuuko
feigned rage.
Both fell silent again after that.
"Mi-chan?"
"What?"
"I'm hungry."
---
Fuuko sat at the dining table, fork and spoon in
hand, humming to herself, with a look that could only described as plain
amusement as she watched Mikagami at work on dinner. "Oh, the unattainable
honor of tasting Your Highness' divine culinary skills… I am indeed a
blessed commoner," she sniggered.
"Fuuko…" Mikagami warned.
"I cringe from the exhaustive effort to zap
me with The Glare and whimper in terror at the evil undertone of the
threat," Fuuko said dramatically, throwing both her arms out.
"Stupid monkey…"
"Hmm… it smells real good, Mi-chan… what
are you cooking?" Fuuko asked.
Mikagami cracked another egg and dropped just the
yolk in.
"Hello? The goddess of beauty is making an
inquiry about the unknown substance she is about to ingest!"
He added a spoon of butter.
"Hey!" Fuuko threw the fork at him,
aiming perfect from her years of practice with her shuriken.
But accuracy means nothing if the weapon does not
hit the intended target. Mikagami simply caught it just as it was about to make
contact with the back of his head. Plucking it out of the air, he dipped it into
the frying pan and tasted the sauce. "That won't work."
He poured the pan of dark red sauce over two
plates of spaghetti, and added a sprig of parsley on each plate. "Not yet,
Fuuko."
He took out a carrot, apple, pineapple, a slice
of melon and mayonnaise from the refrigerator, then with unbelievable speed,
skinned and chopped them into neat cubes. The mixture of fiber and vitamins were
separated into two bowls, then topped with diluted mayonnaise. He placed the two
bowls beside the plates of spaghetti, then checked the soup that was already
boiling.
Smells like pumpkin… Fuuko put her nose
in the air. The scent alone was enough to excite her saliva glands.
Mikagami ladled the soup into two miniature white
soup bowls. Fuuko marveled at how fully-equipped his kitchen was. Fuuko had
learnt something from her short time here -- if a place in the house was to be
furnished, it was either given full attention or left empty. She had seen the
bar a few moments ago, in the second den. It came with all the types of
glassware one could think of, from a shot glass to a pilsner to beer mug, unlike
most professional bars nowadays. Fuuko had no great knowledge of bartending, but
she knew a good and well-stocked bar when she sees one. Especially when it had
two bottles of Remy Martin Louis XIII in the collection.
She wondered why they were there anyway, since
Mikagami did not seem to drink.
Said young man served her the soup first, putting
a bowl on each side of the table with grace.
"Whoa… this feels like I'm in a
restaurant… what's with the three course meal anyway?" Fuuko raised an
eyebrow.
"I never mess around when it comes to
eating. Most restaurants put in a lot of food coloring and artificial
flavoring," Mikagami said, sitting down opposite her. "Soup first. It's
pumpkin."
Fuuko spooned a large helping into her mouth.
*silence*
"ARGHHHHHH!!!!!!!" She stood up and
went to the sink, spitting frantically. Mikagami frowned in concern (for the
taste of his food) and tasted his own soup.
*silence*
"Is there something wrong?"
Fuuko look at him, and one could almost see the
blood in her eyes. "Dammit, what did you ADD inside?"
Mikagami frowned, a little insulted. "Wasabe,
you've got a problem?"
"Wasabe!! You put wasabe in pumpkin
soup? Ya nuts or something?" Fuuko sputtered while washing her
mouth clean. Her voice… sounded like it was going. She coughed furiously.
Mikagami continued spooning (delicately) the soup
into his mouth. "You could have told me your tolerance for spicy food is
this pathetic."
"What did you call me?" *cough*
*hack*
"Pathetic," Mikagami repeated evenly.
Fuuko's immediate thoughts were unprintable,
but the basic idea can be perceived from the fire that flared from her eyes.
"Oh, I'll show you pathetic!"
She grabbed her bowl of abandoned soup and held
it up, then in one incredible mouthful, poured it all down her throat. Her veins
sort of floated up, and the white in her eyes turned kind of pink. Mikagami
watched calmly, face straight, and the image of Ranma choking on Akane's food
came to mind involuntarily, possibly because Fuuko fit into that category of…
looks, at that moment. (He remembered catching that on the television at the
hotel room during the Urabatousatsujin.)
The white bowl slammed down on the table (then
cracked into two). (Meaning the bowl, but then again, a crack did appear on the
table's marble surface…) Fuuko turned to face Mikagami, face and ears all
red. "There! I'm better than you!"
Mikagami pushed his soup bowl aside, and sniffed.
"You could have been more refined."
"WHAT?!?!"
"I mean you could have eaten in a less
carnivorous way," Mikagami muttered to himself. Wisely, he collected both
his and Fuuko's bowls and brought on the spaghetti and salad. "No
spice."
Fuuko calmed down considerably, and sat down
again. She tentatively dripped a bit of sauce into her mouth. "Edible…"
*silence*
"Okay, actually it's rather nice."
*silence*
"Can you lend me the recipe?"
"There's no recipe for this."
"Then where did you learn it from?!"
"Someone I know."
"Teach me!"
"I can't."
"Come on! Teach me!"
"Something important is missing."
"Then get it!"
"I can't."
"Why?!"
"It can't be bought."
"What is it?!!"
"You won't want to know."
"Well, I do!"
"Love."
*silence*
"What?" Fuuko asked, confused.
"Love?"
"Yes," Mikagami looked away. "You
can't get it. It's missing. I certainly don't love you."
"What's spaghetti got to do with love?"
Question marks flew.
"It's taught to me by someone I love, and
someone who loves me, that's why there's no recipe for it…" Mikagami
whispered, and stared at his plate.
"Oh…" was all Fuuko could manage. She
blushed. Idiot! How dumb can you get?! Then as she kept quiet and
thought about it, a deep still settled in her, weighing down her guts. "So
it's settled then?" she changed the topic. "I'll go home and pack
my bags. You go get the tickets."
She started gobbling down her food. Then before
Mikagami could say anything else, she was out of the kitchen and racing for the
gate. "See ya tomorrow!"
A vein flickered on Mikagami's forehead.
She didn't even clear up…
---
Fuuko raced down the streets at her fastest, as
the wind blew hot tears against her face. She wiped them away angrily. Third
time, Fuuko Kirisawa. Third time today.
And the thing was, she could not control it;
them, the tears. She knew they were coming, knew since Mikagami mentioned
the word that she thought would never come out of his mouth ever. Love. Of
course he had to mention that.
And then of course, the main triggers were her
memories. Bloody hell. Happiness can turn into bitterness and even hatred when
the cause of it is gone forever. How many times had she returned home after
school, and just ignored her mother or quarreled with her? How many times had
she taken for granted that she would always be there to cook for her? To make
sure she ate all her food? To clean up the mess after she finished?
She ran and ran, not towards her house, the house
that was once her home. She ran the way she did the night before, for a long
time, didn't stop until she reached the trees.
---
Movies were nothing but bluffs.
There were no cops and detectives stampeding the
place, no sirens blaring, no busy looking people at all. At least no one who
looked like they were on the side of justice.
People in police uniform, yes. A trio or more
left there to guard the place. The place where a once proud building had stood,
closed off to the world. Now there was rubble and the smell of low-quality
cigarettes. And of course, the few upholders of law who looked like drug
traffickers. They sat at a table set inside the blue and white tape that ran
around the boundary of the affected area, smoking, laughing, and altogether not
doing their job.
Fuuko stood in the shadows of the trees. The
detectives and important people were probably already in their offices after
handing the bits and pieces of meat that had been salvaged to the
forensic scientists. Or maybe not. Clearly they died of bombing. But then again,
maybe they could trace the type of bomb used through the… smell of the charred
flesh.
Fuuko's half-conscious mind registered that she
still had no idea where Mikagami got his bomb.
The normal society that goes to work everyday and
sleep in the regular hours probably had no idea of the building's existence
until it was gone. Fuuko looked at the debris, and feel the heart inside her,
the heart that could still hurt for others, clenched. Again, she wondered why
she chose to be a killer. Why she chose to make people miserable like herself.
Oh yeah, she forgot to remember why she was
miserable in the first place.
In the dark part of the forest, where the sun was
not facing and shining its light at, Fuuko knelt down. Cried. Cried for not the
departed, but the people who were left to cry, just like her.
-----
"WHATTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Fuuko squeezed her eyes shut. "You see…
this… that… then this again… You get the picture?"
Yanagi, Recca and Domon stared and slowly nodded.
Fuuko sweatdropped.
"So the thing is that I'm going to England
for a while."
"NOOOOO!!!! Don't go, honey Fuuko!!"
Domon flung himself on her and clung.
*kick* *far, far away, a star shines down on
mankind *
"Fuuko, why didn't you tell us
earlier?" Yanagi asked in concern. "We could have gotten you more warm
clothes or something like that!"
"Yeah! Why didn't you tell us earlier! We
could have made a list of all the things we want you to buy!" Recca chipped
in, a woeful expression on his face.
He got a punch in the nose.
"Hey! I'm not going there to play! I heard
my Aunt's seriously ill!" Fuuko protested.
"I want to goooo with you!" Domon
appeared beside her again, whining.
He got a punch in his face too.
"I'll be gone for less than two weeks,
definitely," Fuuko confirmed. "Copy notes for me while I'm gone,
okay?"
"How much gifts can I trade them for?"
Recca asked sourly.
"I'll bring you back something with the
label 'Made in England', I promise," Fuuko winked.
"Really??" Recca looked up excitedly,
unable to believe it, coming from Fuuko.
"Yeah, something worth a hundred
pounds."
"Wow! A hundred pounds converted to yen will
be… what is it you're bringing back?"
"A hundred pounds of England dung!"
Fuuko roared with laughter, at how gullible her friend was. "AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!!!"
The door to the roof opened.
"I'm going abroad too."
"Mikagami-sempai?" Yanagi said,
surprised.
Recca started chasing Fuuko around the roof, like
he never heard Mikagami. Domon started going after Recca for trying to hammer
Fuuko, and they made merry trails of dust. Yanagi sweatdropped.
"Where are you going, sempai?" she
asked politely.
"America. Visiting a college. Take care,
Yanagi-chan. I'll be gone tonight."
With that, the door clicked shut again. Yanagi
sweatdropped again, then turned to the big dustcloud in the middle of the
rooftop. "M-minna… wait a moment… listen…"
---
Fuuko gave Yanagi a final hug, then watched her
sniff a little. Domon lay on the floor, tangled a heap after trying to kiss
Fuuko goodbye. Recca and Koganei stood by the side, yawning. It was 2 am in the
morning, what Mikagami referred to as 'the day after tomorrow'.
Said Mikagami waited patiently for Yanagi to
finish. Because of too much indescribable sadness, the boarding of the
plane was delayed till the final call, when Fuuko untangled herself from a
returned-to-consciousness Domon and Yanagi to go in together with Mikagami.
And as the team was on the way home, Recca
wondered aloud, "Hey, guys, don't you find it funny that Mikagami and Fuuko
are taking the same flight? I mean, one is going to London and one to Las Vegas…"
The team dismissed it from their minds, thinking
that it was an around the world in one day flight.
* * *
Fuuko peered out of the window, looking at the
thick layer of clouds beneath. Titanic was being looped on the TV screen, and
she was sick of seeing a fat lumpy piece of flesh lying on the couch to be
drawn. Mikagami was busy changing the programming of the games they provided
onboard, into something more intellectual. How he was supposed to do that, she
did not know or care.
True, she felt bad lying to her friends, but she
could already feel the adrenaline coursing through her body (the stupid cliche)
at the thought of finally having something more important to do than just being
an escort. Maybe this time, she would find her mother's murderer… she
gritted her teeth.
Mikagami had been watching Fuuko discreetly all
along, and he noticed the tensed look on her face. She had been behaving weird
since the day before, when she ran out after eating his food. And the nth time,
he wondered what was it that made her choose her current profession. She was
still young, with a good heart… Death, of course. Death that leads to loss
that leads to pain that may lead to madness… 99% possibility she's seeking
revenge…
He still remembered his own words at the funeral
of her mother. He was right, the woman was dead, and no amount of crying would
make her come back, make her open her eyes, make her smile again…
Mikagami involuntarily bit his lip. He had been
through the same, and was still missing something; he knew better.
People said the dead always looked at peace,
looked like they have left for a better world. Bullshit. Someone cold with
blue-gray skin did not look peaceful. Someone with eyes wide open and whites
showing did not look peaceful. Someone will half his brain missing did not look
peaceful. No, they just look dead.
He was glad he never saw Mifuyu that way.
He had not been allowed to see his sister's
body after they wheeled her into the emergency room. She went in there, with
doctors and nurses by her side, the stretcher stained and soaked in blood. He
could never forget the noise of the hurrying feet, the rattle as the stretcher
moved along, the chill when the doors swung close, or the wait that was timeless
and terrifying…
And of course, he could never forget that she
never came out.
He was shaken out of his recollections when he
felt something touched him. Fuuko had fallen asleep on his right shoulder,
probably tired after the lack of rest. Good timing. If he continued on thinking,
he would have felt like killing someone. Literally.
He wondered whether to wake her, then decided
against it. He did not need it, but his eyes closed anyway, shutting out the
world and his own thoughts so that he was unable to think, for the
moment.
---
Baby blue eyes opened as the plane began its
touchdown at the airport in Los Angeles. No trace of sleep remained, no yawn, no
stretching. Tokiya Mikagami simply woke up. He tapped his partner sharply. Fuuko
mumbled something and sleepily reached for her pillow, which was miles away.
Lifting a heavy eyelid, she groaned and stretched
heavily. They followed the rest of the passengers down the plane, and waited
patiently for their luggage. The two had not really come with anything bulky: a
backpack each and an extra laptop in Mikagami's case. He was the one who took
care of the custom procedures while Fuuko slumped down in a corner and slept
away.
She was only half-awake when she followed
Mikagami through the glass doors and watched foggily while the guard gave a curt
nod and returned them their passports.
It was already early in the morning, and nearly
afternoon when they reached their hotel. It was still Mikagami who checked in
for them and he who lugged Fuuko into her room. He tipped the porter hurriedly
before throwing his partner onto her bed in her room. It was a suite Mikagami
had reserved for them, with two rooms, one small place to eat and watch TV, and
a bathroom. Mikagami put on the Do Not Disturb sign at the door - he did not
want chambermaids stumbling on the various illegal items that they were going to
add to their suite soon.
---
"Ouuuuuuuch!" Fuuko groaned as she
stretched painfully, sore and cramped after being still for so long the previous
day. Mikagami ignored her, and called for room service.
"Stretch properly now. We're going out in
the afternoon," he commanded. It was the next day, Fuuko having slept the
previous day and night. It was good that she showed no signs of ill adjustment
to the difference in time from Japan.
"Where to?" Fuuko asked lazily.
"We don't have weapons, and I'm not
going to use Ensui."
"You mean…?"
"Going to get guns."
Author's notes
Those who have read the first version will know
that this is rather completely different. I ended off at a different place too,
which means I'll have to modify my chapter 2 a little to fit the rest in.
because this getting guns crap is a new idea… that's why. And I don't want
to keep those people who like this fic waiting any longer. I'm sorry, I know I'm
slow…
The joke about England shit is er… a trademark
of my old classmates… they loved the '100 pounds' pun.
So those few who have seen chapter 2 on the ml,
please delete it off your mind, because there will be a slight modification in
its chaptering.
Points I focused on in here:
- Moving the plot
- Explain Fuuko's reasons for joining the
Company (as I've so conveniently named…)
Yes, I know point 2 is quite invalid, and it's
not a good reason, but for my convenience, just think Fuuko is very emotional.
After all, look at the big change to Mikagami.
Some short previews of the next chapter:
- Mikagami… in disguise O_o
- Hint of Fuuko's mother's murderer. And I
don't think Fuuko is expecting it to be what it is.
- Something goes wrong with their trying to
retrieve information at the center. When I say wrong I mean totally wrong
Yes, that's all. I'm going to focus on the
next part of my other fic, Can't Let You Go now. I know people like
this fic better than that, but i promise the next chapter is going to be fun…
I hope.
No, no amount of begging will make me change my
mind.
*silence*
Okay, I CAN be bribed ^^;; but the price is high
^o^ if I get more than 15 reviews for this chapter of Darker Side alone, I'll
do chapter 2 first. Impossible, right? (this chapter, I admit, is so boring, I
want to cry) Yeah. That's why… just wait! (My stuff have been boring
lately... i hope they will get better...)
Thanks to everyone who reviewed the prologue.
Thanks to everyone who put it on their favorites list.
Thanks to Ferrum who encouraged me. Remember, peace comes after war and every war has an end.
Thanks especially to Nefer for distracting me
from school work with the all-wonderful MSN Messenger. You're a great help! *glomp*
when my mum's breathing down my neck for me to do homework, you're the only
one egging me on to do fics *heehee* the main source of evil… you rock!
______________________________________________________________________________
The Darker Side is an original piece of work copyrighted to saturn de wicked™.
Characters in this fan fiction are adapted from Flame of Recca without
permission from its creator and/or distributors of his work. All rights reserved
to Anzai Nobuyuki and those who share the rights. This fan fiction is
non-profitable and only written for recreational purposes.
© 2001 saturn de wicked™