Chapter II
Mission 1 - Woman
They walked in silence down the street. It was crowded with tourist, just
like a city should be. People jostled one another around just to prevent
themselves from being squeezed onto out onto the busy road. There was always a
distance between the two, but they kept their pace constant and strode with
purpose down one avenue into another. Their garbs were that of normal tourist
teenagers, nothing more, nothing less. And all along, if one noticed, they
walked side by side, never letting the human traffic deter them. Side by side,
but never close enough to be acknowledged as acquaintances. They continued their
walk, until the human shopping population dwindled into one or two homeless men
sleeping by the roadside benches.
And yet, the distance between them never shrunk. It was long after wandering
into the residential area of the lower class society that the female spoke, in
mild irritation. "How far is that stupid place anyway? How much more to
go?"
Mikagami adjusted his shades and closed the distance between them. "Half
an hour more."
Fuuko growled and continued walking. Silence resumed. She felt a bit nervous
about going into the den of illegal firearms dealers with only on ally. It was
not the lack of guns around (she never depended on the filthily heavy mechanisms
anyway) but rather the uneasy feeling that came from stepping into foreign and
possibly hostile territories. Mikagami seemed to be cool, though, about
everything.
Fuuko scowled darkly. Of course he was cool with everything. The day he
flinched at a gun between his brows was the day gravity left Earth. She glanced
over. His eyes were covered with the shades they picked up. Not those tiny round
ones, but full ones that covered the whole eye, and the black lenses reflected
rainbow colors. It helped to shield their identities at least a little too.
Fuuko propped her own a little further up her nose bridge. She was not used to
wearing things in front of her eyes.
Exactly thirty minutes later, Mikagami turned into a narrow alleyway that
smelt of burnt cigar. The street was deserted already. They were somewhat in the
less urban areas of the city, where only the less well to do ones congregated.
Fuuko stubbed her toe on a random brick lying on the ground, and cursed. She was
really not in a good mood, probably because she was perspiring like a pig from
the heat and exercise while Mikagami have yet to break a sweat.
The alley was long, as well as dark. Its walls were covered in grime, and
underneath them were faded graffiti drawn by kids in the past who were now
fathers of fathers. It was not exactly dark. Dim would be the better word.
Mikagami led the way, moving smoothly while Fuuko followed his long strides as
best as she could. Before long, they came to a dead end, and Fuuko was ready to
lose her temper when Mikagami knelt down and yanked the lid off the ground.
Fuuko looked at him in surprise, then as comprehension dawned, horror.
"No, Mikagami, I'm NOT going in there."
It was darkness in the forgotten sewerage channel, just a steep drop, and
light was not strong enough to reach the bottom. Fuuko grimaced. Mikagami just
looked at her expectantly. "Don't decide to be a lady now, okay? Because
you're not."
"What?!!!" Fuuko whirled around, fists ready.
"You're Tempest. Operator Tempest," Mikagami told her evenly.
"Not a lady. Not a woman."
Fuuko relaxed and peered into the hole again. "How far to the
bottom?" she inquired nervously.
"No more than ten feet. You won't break any bones." Mikagami
waited, still holding on to the dirty metal cover. If one were to look more
carefully, he would see that it was not as unused as it appeared.
"You've been inside before?"
"Twice."
"Okay…" Fuuko took a deep breath, and dropped herself inside
without further thoughts. She only hoped her partner was right.
Her feet touched the bottom, and she made a soft landing. Yes, barely ten
feet… she let out a sigh of relief. For a moment, the drop almost seemed
bottomless. "I'm alive!"
"Out of the way," was the soft command as a body dropped down,
landing beside her. Fuuko jumped, startled.
Mikagami pulled out a small flashlight, and started walking to their left
without another word. Fuuko followed close behind. Now this was not her idea of
fun at all.
"Who are you?"
Fuuko let out a small yelp, involuntarily. The voice was so sudden… It
echoed around.
Mikagami seemed to be expecting it, though. "The waters are dirty, but
where it leads the right one to, lies glittering jewels," he said, with a
certain uncaring factor in his voice. The presence that spoke to them stirred,
and a light was turned on some way in front of them.
"Follow me."
---
They came to a door, and stopped. Behind them their footsteps echoed away,
then died. It was perfect silence before their escort knocked on the sturdy
wooden door. It swung open. A short, fat man in his mid-forties glared up at
them. He backed away from the door and left them to make themselves at home. The
three stepped into the well-lit room. Fuuko winced, trying to get used to the
sudden bright light, despite the shades.
When her vision cleared, she gasped in shock. It was an underground cavern
all right, a man-made one. The place was big, and big crates were placed
everywhere on the floor, making it seem more like a maze than anything else –
a maze with crate walls. She had no doubt what their contents were. But there
was just so… much…
Their escort turned to them, and Fuuko saw his face for the first time. But
the thing was, the 'he' was a 'she'. The woman was a tall one, standing
a little taller than Mikagami. Her physical built spelt muscles, and her voice
was deep, enough to be mistaken for a man like Fuuko had.
She brought them to a desk in the corner, where there were a whole group of
ten to fifteen men, lounging on the crates. They all looked up when the three
approached, two clearly not their own.
"So," the woman thundered. "What do you want?"
"Hey, I remember that beautiful guy from a year back," one of her
comrades called out from his perch high up. "Grown more sexy, kid."
Chortles here and there with a wolf-whistle thrown in.
Mikagami ignored them. "A pair of UZI Eagle 941RS. Short slide. Another
pair of P230 SIG-sauer SA/DA. Blued steel." Perfect English. Fuuko raised
an eyebrow.
The woman raised an eyebrow too. "The fast business man, aren't
we?"
"Would you prefer my lingering?" Mikagami challenged, voice smooth.
The woman gave him a disdainful glare and called to one of her mates sitting
up high. "Short eagle, two! And P230!"
One of them jumped off and ran along the line of crates to the end of the
underground room, where he jumped down and started prying open a box. The woman
held out a hand. "In cash."
"Four magazines for each type," Mikagami added. "I'll pay up
after I've confirmed the guns are all right."
They waited for a while for the firearms to be fetched. Fuuko nudged Mikagami.
"Oi, I don't need two guns… one spare one will be enough. I use my
Fuujin more."
Mikagami shrugged. "What if you drop it?"
"It's creepy here…" she muttered. "Those guys on the
crates look like hyenas waiting to pounce…"
"Quiet. If they try anything, it's because you're dressing too
skimpily," Mikagami replied.
Fuuko scowled. "I think if they try 'anything', it'll be on you, sexy
boy."
Mikagami snorted. The one who had gone to get their purchase came back at the
moment, holding the four pistols without cases. Upon a closer look, Fuuko saw
that he could not be any older than herself. The errand boy of the gang,
probably. Not that it was something little, because from what she could see, the
organization was larger than it seemed. A lot larger.
Mikagami silently picked up the killing metal, one by one, from the desk they
had been put on. With expert hands he dismantled them and pieced then back
again, checking how smooth the parts ran on one another. Then he took up the
black Uzi and pointed at the ground, then dry-fired it. That procedure was
repeated on the other three guns, until he was satisfied.
His audience watched, stunned, at the speed at which he was going about
checking the guns. Clearly some of them prided themselves on their expertise in
that particular area, but one could not help but gape as they continued
watching.
Mikagami threw one of each type to Fuuko, and she clumsily caught it.
"Hey! Don't throw this like you're throwing an apple!"
Mikagami ignored her, and pulled out a folded envelope from the inside of his
jacket. He offered it to the amazon woman. "Correct amount for the standard
price."
While she counted the stack of notes, Mikagami loaded both guns with the
correct magazines, screwed on a silencer each, and jammed the Uzi into a black
leather holster he had at his waist, and the SIG-sauer into a pocket of his
jacket. Fuuko, at a loss, held on to both. Mikagami handed her share of
magazines over.
"Er… Mi-chan? I don't have hands to hold them now, if your eyes can't
see."
Mikagami sighed. Taking her out is a shame to my reputation…
"You have pockets, don't you?" he held her by the shoulder and
stuffed two magazines into her jeans' pockets. It looked a litter bulky, but
he doubted it would cause too much inconvenience. The other two, he loaded into
the guns. "Do you have a bag or something?"
The woman looked up for a moment and motioned for one of the men to get it
for him. the appointed one snorted and complied. He came back with something
that resembled a crude handbag, but it would do. Mikagami put the two heavy
metals in and threw it to Fuuko. "You need to learn how to use your
brain."
Guffaws from the audience. Fuuko felt the temptation to shoot her partner,
but she restrained herself. The woman looked up and nodded. "You can go. If
there's any leak to the police, you're dead, okay, kid?"
Mikagami shot her a look of icy contempt. "Then try… we'll see who
stops breathing first, the giant or the kid."
With that he strode out of the place. Deal success.
---
"You should be glad nothing went wrong," Mikagami remarked, feeling
Fuuko's glare on him as they walked out of the alley into sunshine.
"Why?" More like a snarl.
"The last time I was there, last year, I walked in on a corpse with
brain blown out. He tried to shoot the keeper with the gun he wanted to
purchase," he recalled, voice casual, like talking about yesterday's
dinner. "You wouldn't want it to be your brain that's spraying
everywhere, will you?"
Fuuko swallowed, but did not allow her agitation to show. "No, but how
nice if it were yours."
Silence from the iceman. Fuuko smiled triumphantly. "No rebuke? No
clever remarks?"
Suddenly, Mikagami slid an arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer,
intimately. Fuuko froze up like she had been shot. "Shh," he
whispered, not looking at her. "Don't talk."
"What do you mean by this!!" Fuuko struggled against his grip.
Mikagami did not even look at her. "We're being followed, fool. Don't
look behind. Use your ears."
Fuuko frowned and squirmed uncomfortably, but was otherwise, tolerant.
"I can't hear anything!" she whispered back.
"On the count of 3, I'm going to turn back and maybe, shoot. There's
no one on these streets now, but be prepared to run," Mikagami said,
nudging Fuuko's head towards his shoulders. She remained stiff. Really…
we must have more chemistry…
"What am I supposed to do?" Their steady footsteps continued on.
She was beginning to suspect that whoever their follower was, he had no
intention of killing them as yet.
"Pull out your gun, point it at him. Don't shoot. Three."
Fuuko tensed.
"Two."
Her hand snaked towards the bag she carried.
"One."
Mikagami swirled around in one smooth motion, the sleek black Uzi in his
hand. There was a small burst of orange light then a small zapping sound. The
bullet bounced off the light pole it hit, with a loud 'ping'. Fuuko had only
lifted up her gun.
There was a shadow that moved away from the pillar and into the alley beside,
but no sound, no other movements.
Mikagami's expression did not change. He kept the gun again into his jacket
and motioned for Fuuko to go.
"Who was that?" she demanded.
"Seventy percent chance someone sent by Maniac to spy on us, twenty
percent chance an overseer from the Company, one percent chance someone sent to
kill me or you or us both, one percent chance FBI, eight percent chance
others," Mikagami dictated quietly. He resumed walking, like nothing had
happened, or like that happened everyday.
Fuuko caught up with him after a moment of staring at the innocent light
pole. "We are going to do nothing about it?"
"It's not good to follow someone into a place no room for moving.
Never an alley," Mikagami replied calmly. In his mind, he was troubled,
quite, about Fuuko's devastating lack of common knowledge. She was too
reckless for her own good. Remotely, he wondered how she had been able to
survive for so long.
"What are we going to do?" Fuuko asked, looking all around now.
"You're going to stop turning your head."
She aimed a punch at his head, but he stepped back. "Give me some proper
answers!"
"Back to hotel to wait until night. We'll start our information
collecting."
---
Mikagami sat in front of the mirror, looking at the reflection of himself. He
reached out slender fingers to tuck in a stray strand of hair, now golden. Fuuko
was going to freak when she saw him. Now that there was a large possibility of
his target watching him, he did not want to take chances anymore. His target
knows someone was hunting him and must even have known his exact identity to
have sent someone to watch. This was one of the rare cases. But then again, he
rarely took on other 'colleagues' of his.
He arranged his top that stopped above the navel. Someone my rank… to
capture myself… No, he did want to be recognized at all, if possible.
A knock sounded.
"Come in."
Fuuko peeked in.
And froze.
Stopped breathing.
Started hyperventilating.
Mikagami closed his eyes. "Any objections?"
"Y-y-y-y-y-you…" Fuuko stuttered, eyes bulging. "Y-y-y-y-y-y-you…"
"Yes, I'm disguised as a woman. Want to laugh?" Mikagami tossed
his hair back, tossed his curly, blonde hair back. The expert make-up on
his face was well placed, accenting the baby blue eyes and the attractive
paleness of his face. He has put a black hue to his eyelids, contrasting the
color of his skin, and painted black lipstick to his lips.
Fuuko staggered up to him, and leaned onto the dresser for support.
She did not know how to react, how to feel. Laugh? Or simply stare?
So she just gaped.
Mikagami dropped a black hair-tie into his pants pocket, and stood up. Fuuko
raised a hand and weakly poked at his chest. His protruding chest.
"T-t-that…"
"Fake of course, what do you think it was?" Mikagami frowned
carelessly, making his way past Fuuko with thoughtless grace. The black leather
pants he was wearing clung to the curves of his body, just like how his
skin-tight top clung to him. It ended above his navel, showed nothing yet
everything. The material was black in color and sleeveless.
Fuuko blinked, then shook herself out of her trance. Oh mine… am I sick
or do I really think he's hot? Talk about the look of the devil… that black
makeup… She buried her face in a hand. Oh, Fuuko Kirisawa, you're
one big pervert! You're disgusting, grotesque, totally OBSCENE!!! But
again, he did have a damn good figure. Drool-worthy, actually.
Fuuko conked herself on the head and stood up. Nope, no more fantasizing.
Mi-chan is a FRIEND. (If one sets aside the fact that he's a bastard at all
times.)
---
The brown-haired young lady slipped her hair-band into place and swept the
mug of coffee off the kitchen table, settling down in front of the computer with
it. Licking her lips, she logged on into her account. Someone was on her waiting
list, and a click of the mouse told her the person had been there for more than
half the day already. Humming softly, she clicked on his code number.
An image of a young man with flaming red hair came into view. He did a sort
of miniature bow, bending as low as his desk would allow.
The woman leaned back into her swivel chair. "Report."
The man nodded politely and glanced at the papers in his hand. "Our own
spies report that operatives Metallica and Tempest have been seen in LA. Their
exact locations and relating data will be sent with the written report. Fifteen
minutes before, they are seen along Turner Street heading north, three o'clock
direction from their hotel. Metallica took Tempest along when he headed to
purchase weapons from an illegal firearm distribution band. Our spy was
discovered by Metallica when they were tailing the two in their return home.
"Discovered?" the lady's kind eyes hardened, and narrowed.
"Yes ma'am. Agent Hex was discovered by Metallica. Tempest and
Metallica did not see his face, only his shadow. Also, he reported that there
was another person tailing Metallica and Tempest who was disrupting his work.
Identity unknown, but presumed to be former operative Maniac's
underling."
The lady was in thought for a moment. "Third degree punishment for Agent
Hex. Suspend him from his duties and attach him to a new operative. Find a more
competent agent to take over Metallica. Make sure he knows the consequences of
inadequacy. Continue."
"Yes ma'am. Operators Metallica and Tempest have used their real
identities and passports for travel, but it is confirmed that they have been
using cash since the start of the journey. The assets in Metallica's account
have not been employed in any form of transaction as of yet. It is of concern
that Operator Tempest has not participated actively or constructively to the
current point. There is a possibility that her lack of experience is holding
Operator Metallica back from working to his true potentials…"
The lady waved away the hesitation carelessly. "That is of no great
concern. I have my own plans for their future. Those two can make a good pair if
granted an adequate amount of time for chemistry to set in… Do you doubt my
judgements, chief?"
"No! I mean, no, ma'am," the young man murmured. "May I make
a query, ma'am?"
"Go on," the lady invited.
"Do we need to take into considerations the possibilities of operators
Metallica and Tempest working as permanent partners?"
"No. I shall personally oversee their future and it shall be of no major
concern to the intelligence bureau. You only need to deploy two units for my
personal service. The two serving units should be equipped with in-depth
knowledge of operatives Metallica and Tempest and functioning around the clock.
I may require their knowledge and research for reference any moment. Any
inefficiency or severance in duties will not be tolerated. Do you read me,
chief?"
"Yes, ma'am. Orders are to deploy two units from the intelligence
bureau into temporary service of the Leader. Consequences for imperfection or
dissatisfaction in their conduct shall fall upon I, Chief of Intelligence as
well as the offending unit," the man humbly repeated.
"Proceed with report."
"Operator Metallica and operator Tempest may be heading towards one of
the most powerful information dealers in the globe. It is one of the more
significant subdivisions of their international network. The front is a popular
nightclub, but from the back of the place there is a way of getting to the
center and purchase information about almost anyone. From records, Metallica had
been there once already, and it is apparent that he believes in the quality and
reliability of what he paid for. That is all I have so far. Any events out of
prediction would be reported immediately upon realization. Otherwise, the next
report would be in an hour's time, at 0100."
"You're dismissed," the lady said, stretching and taking a sip of
her coffee. The screen flickered off. The room was dark again.
"Tokiya Mikagami…" She chuckled. "Soon, Tokiya… soon…"
---
Fuuko froze and literally turned into stone as she stood in front of the
stairs that led to the underground nightclub. The big neon sign above the
doorway was enough to make her turn tail and run back to the hotel. However,
having caught the unsmiling yet somehow smug look Mikagami shot her, she gritted
her teeth and started down the steps. Mikagami immediately pulled her back.
"Arrange your hair to cover your eyes, put on a bitchy smile and act
normal," he commanded. "You're walking like you've been left
overnight in the freezer."
The telltale vein popped out again on Fuuko's forehead. She gave a big
scowl. "You have no right to boss me around, Tokiya Mikagami."
"I'm hereby assisting you in not getting butchered by telling
you to act like a normal teenager coming to have fun, not like a guy going into
the bra department," Mikagami replied coolly. "Anyone can tell you're
a new kid who's easy to drug and rape."
"I'm still under-aged, my dear senior," Fuuko batted her
eyelids innocently. Then the sickly sweet voice turned murderous, "AND SO
ARE YOU!"
"Age shouldn't be a problem or an obstacle to completing any
assignments, amateur," Mikagami scoffed as he fished in his pocket and drew
out two plastic cards, tossing one to Fuuko.
"WHO ARE YOU CALLING AMATEUR, TOKI-HMM!!!" Mikagami unmercifully
stuffed both his gloves into Fuuko's mouth, choking her next words. Beyond
furious now, she spat the black leather back at Mikagami and caught him in a
headlock. "I'm gonna kill you, I'm gonna kill you, I'm gonna kill you…"
Mikagami closed his eyes in resignation and with one swift motion, swept
Fuuko off her feet with his lengthy legs and caught her by her hair. He quickly
pursed her lips with his two fingers. "Don't scream out my name, amateur.
I have no time to mess around with you now, so don't expect me to stand here
and let you hit me for fun."
He let go of her and took off his jacket. Fuuko immediately turned and
punched him in the face. Then of course, the whole process of arguing…
Ten minutes later, the two moved down the staircase into the underground
club. Mikagami stuffed some cash in the bouncer's hands so that he did not
comment on their age, then paid a sulky woman inside. She nodded to the door and
they immersed themselves in the fumes and flashing lights.
Do we always gotta cry
Do we always gotta live inside a lie
Life's just a blast, it's movin' really fast
You better stay on top or life will kick you in the ass
Another identical club from all the previous ones, Mikagami mused. Except
that the music was a little better.
His eyes took in the moving mass of bodies that was always present in any
club. So many, all dancing, losing themselves to the music, losing themselves
from life… In a way, he envied them.
They wandered seemingly aimlessly into the crowd. It was horrible, Fuuko
thought, grimacing. Some patrons were barely teenagers, and they were smoking,
drinking… Something made her stop. Fuuko felt a rush of anger run through her.
There was bunch of those kids at the booth she was walking past crowding around
a young man, holding some tubes of plastic to their noses.
Drugs.
Fuuko's hair bristled and she stalked over to the crowd. She grabbed the
youth by his collar and pulled him up from his seat. His eyes were glazed over
and bleary, relaxed; he looked at her with those crazy eyes, not struggling.
Fuuko shook him like violently. "Hey, you… do you know what you're doing?
You're selling these kids drugs? Look at me, son of a bitch!"
He just stared. Slowly, he grinned. An arm went around Fuuko's waist and
pulled her into his lap. He dropped onto the dirty sofa again. Fuuko, taken by
surprise, found herself underneath him the next moment, smelling his thick and
drug-tainted breath. He slurred something inaudible then began groping at her
body. "HEY!! Get of-" The foul-smelling mouth crushed her lips.
She was not shocked. She was actually scared. Without thinking, she lashed
out with her hand and let her sharp nails scratch him across the face, leaving
five red bleeding lines. The kids around laughed madly, their distorted minds
amused. The guy blinked. The pain registered the next second, and he slapped her
sharply across the cheek.
"You!" Fuuko bit her lips in speechless anger and punched him in
the face. He reeled back. She reveled in the freedom from the crushing weight
and attempted at rolling off the dirty cushions. He recovered faster than she
thought he would. Swearing in a hoarse, he grabbed her shoulders and rammed his
knee into her abdomen.
Before they could do more harm to each other, the guy got off her body.
Or more correctly, was hauled off.
He was thrown at the kids sitting opposite to him. His body hit them flat in
the face. But they were not angry. No, not at all. With fanatical eagerness,
they screamed shrilly and began turning out all his pockets, and flailing hands
and elbows knocked out the youth before he could protest. Mikagami looked down
at the sofa, at Fuuko, silently.
"What do you think you're doing?" he asked calmly, voice strong,
carrying over the music.
She looked back at him stupidly, body shaking a little. Then she wiped her
face with sweaty palms and let go of the breath she had been holding. Her fear
and shame only lasted for a second before she jumped up and grabbed the young
man from his mop of customers. She raised a fist in anger.
A cool hand caught her descending arm. "Stop."
Fuuko saw red at the moment. She dropped the drug seller and instead, whirled
around to aim a punch at Mikagami with her free hand. The expressionless sword
wielder swiftly jerked his head sideways, avoiding the sloppy effort easily. He
caught her hand as she withdrew it for another punch. Fuuko, angered beyond
sense, struggled uselessly against the unrelenting grip. "Let me GO, damn
it! I want to teach that bastard a lesson!"
"He's already blacked out," Mikagami told her calmly. "Don't
interfere, Fuuko."
Fuuko's eyes flashed. "They can't be more than fourteen! And that
guy is selling them DRUGS, fuck it! He ought to die! He's taking away
their lives! Let me GO!!"
Mikagami's grip did not loosen. "Their lives are drugs."
"But… look at them!" Fuuko screamed. One or two of the
crowd looked at her weirdly, some laughed, while others lay unmoving on the
sofa, floor, glassy eyes empty. They stared. "They have parents! Families!
And they're here hooking themselves onto drugs! Shit you, Mikagami, look at
them!"
"If they were happy with their lives, they wouldn't have sought for a
living death," Mikagami stated flatly. "Now go. That guy is already
unconscious."
"That is NOT THE POINT!!!" Fuuko yelled, kicking futilely at her
captor.
The change was distinct.
Mikagami did not reply. Rage was radiating off him in waves. Silence. Then he
whispered slowly, "Shut up, Fuuko. You don't know anything. You don't
understand. So shut up."
She stopped moving.
I do not want this
I do not want this
I do not want this
I do not want this
The music pounded into her head. For the first time, they seemed more
significant than just noise. She shivered.
And don't you tell me how I feel
Don't you tell me how I feel
Don't you tell me how I feel
You don't know just how I feel
The kids were silent. They stared at Mikagami, stared at her.
I stay inside my bed
I have lived so many lives all in my head
And don't tell me that you care
There really isn't anything. Now is there?
You would know. Wouldn't you?
They broke into senseless laughter. Mikagami gazed at her. The kids laughed.
You extend your hand to those who suffer
To those who know what it really feels like
To those who have had a taste
Like that means something
The music was tearing her head apart; she nearly screamed. Mikagami let go of
her and turned stiffly; walked away. She just stood there, feeling a sudden urge
to puke. The howling laughter behind her subsided, and ended. She looked at
them, the expression on her face unreadable.
Then she ran as fast as she could in the crowd and fell in step with Mikagami.
The urge to retch was stronger than ever. Mikagami gazed at her coolly. She bit
her lips and returned the look. Their eyes held for half a minute. Fuuko could
not read the emotion that seemed to glow in the baby blue eyes. If she did not
know better, she'd say it was a lack of emotion. But… experience taught her
that Mikagami was not who and what he pretended to me. The past ten minutes had
proved that.
He held out a hand. "Come on, I'll take you to the rest room."
There, another freaky Mikagami. The new one who actually gave a shit about
her state of mind.
Author's notes
I don't know what to say, just that I'm unsatisfied with this chapter. It
was originally 21 pages long, Times New Roman size 8 with single line spacing.
Then I decided it was too long, and decided to chop it into three parts, partly
because I take a long time editing and I don't want people to wait. Now I
think it's too short… I'm sorry, because of the cut up, those points in
the preview section of last chapter have been cut away as well, save the
disguise part. Really sorry…
I guess it's good enough to be posted… is it? I'm breaking my word on
holding on to this until chapter 3 of Can't Let You Go (modified name) is out…
guess I'm slow on that too.
I think I mentioned this on the ml, that I'm totally unfamiliar with
nightclubs, possibly because I'm underage. I live in Singapore, so I'm not
gonna risk getting hauled to the police station for trying to get inside just to
get first hand experience to write a fic. So… everything is just from my
imagination, and I know it's kinda too wild for normal places, that's why
the setting is in one of the suburbs. Just take the place as kinda sleazy, for
my convenience. When I'm old enough, I'm gonna bring a notepad with me and
go check those places out.
Tell me if it's a little too dark or out of character, okay? OOC on
Mikagami's part is intentional though. I did the research on guns, and got the
specific models for their abilities, pros and cons. By the way, I did a drawing
of Mikagami in his girls' clothes, wanna see? I assure you he is recognizable,
really. It's just the top half, the whole profile is still in the makings. By
the way, the woman who appeared in the middle of the story is NOT an original
character. Who is she? Go figure.
I'll stop now, because my notes are always too long. Hope readers will
stick with me until the next part, where the fun actually begins (with the
mission).
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________
The Darker Side is an original piece of work copyrighted to saturn de wicked™.
Characters in this fanfiction are adapted from Flame of Recca without permission
from the creator and are copyrighted to their respective owners.
First set of lyrics incorporated into this fanfiction belong to Limp Bizkit,
from the song Take A Look Around of album Chocolate Starfish and the Hot Dog
Flavored Water.
Second set of lyrics incorporated into this fanfiction belong to Nine Inch
Nails, from the song I Do Not Want This of album The Downward Spiral.
© 2001 saturn de wicked