The Darker Side

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:

  1. Moving the plot
  2. 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!

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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™