The Darker Side

The Darker Side

Chapter IV

Mission 1 – Not a Killer

The screen blanked out. Black, empty, dark, black. Like the wind girl's mind.

Now there wasn't even fury. Everything dissolved in the black black vortex. It was strange, but a relief. Her mind was clear again. It was ironic. Clear of distorted thoughts. Replaced by two simple colors. Silver. Silver and red.

The door opened, and Chameleon beckoned her out. Fuuko followed without willing herself to. The two made their way down the corridor and stepped into the elevator. The two heavy doors slid close. Chameleon pressed the button to the basement. Casually, Fuuko asked, "Is my friend out yet? Can I meet him now?"

"Those who have finished their business with us are considered unauthorized personnel and are not allowed to enter our serving quarters again," she replied mechanically.

Fuuko pressed a black Uzi against the woman's temple. "Come on, I really have to meet him now."

The woman did not seem the least disturbed. She gave Fuuko a side-way glance. "I don't' know what you saw back there, Oriental, but I did warn you not to try any tricks on me."

She had barely finished her speech when she was punched in the face and slammed back into the metal wall. Fuuko was about to add in a few more when she felt herself falling. Chameleon had swept her off her feet with one clean kick, and at the same time knocked the gun out of her hand. She took advantage of the situation and was quickly coming in for more damage. Fuuko bounced up from her position on the floor and jumped; her fingers clung onto one of the ventilation slits in the ceiling. She swung forward to aim a kick at her opponent's face. Like a mind-reading machine, Chameleon ducked and dived behind Fuuko. With well-practiced aim, she curled her arm and forcefully elbowed Fuuko's exposed backbone.

There was an unbearable explosion of pain and Fuuko had to let go of her hold on the ventilation slit. She would have cried out in pain if not for the loss of pride that would have incurred. Instead, she just steadied herself for the next attack, ignoring the tingling in her whole body.

Chameleon did not push the skirmish. She touched her swollen cheek and glared at Fuuko. With much dignity, she dusted herself down and smoothed her uniform. The elevator opened, and she walked out like nothing had happened. Fuuko could only stare blankly, then follow.

The wind girl wondered at her lack of enthusiasm. Usually she would have fought till that woman dropped… but that emotion-sucking vacuum was still in her guts. No… something crucial must be done before any feelings would come back.

-----

Under some miraculous blessings, Mikagami managed to avoid all the flying bullets. He could not formulate another explanation for his tired, but otherwise unscathed body.

He stood silently in the ruined room. The little furniture there was before was all blasted into pieces, but the metal plated walls had not so much as a scratch on them. Mikagami surveyed the damage he had done to the machine guns impassively. They were all shot and destroyed by his single pistol. However, the gas was still leaking, and it was already disorientating him. He frowned and went over to the glass side of the room. It was as unharmed as the walls.

Without another thought, he whipped out his Ensui and bladed it with the bottle of water he always kept by his side. That glass could stop other similar victims, alright, but Ensui could cut through three feet thick stone. In a flash, the glass fell down the length of the building in neatly cut pieces. The shattering sounded like chimes in the cold night air.

It was from the third floor that Mikagami leapt down. The street was empty, quiet, and not very far from the nightclub. Mikagami broke his fall with a forward roll and released Ensui's water. Guns could only do that much, he thought, disgusted. Defeated by glass? What would Meguri-sensei think of me if I died in the hands of information dealers?

He frowned, puzzled. Why did information dealers want his life anyway? An assault and murder on one of their customers would affect their creditability and business, and this particular association was well-known in the underground society for their reliability.

But it was no use jumping to conclusions.

Looking up at the ruined glass wall, he grimaced. There were three human silhouettes standing in a row, looking down at him. One of them moved his arm and pointed something at him. Instinctively, Mikagami dived away. Three 'clink's sounded from the spot he was previously standing on. Cursing, Mikagami ducked behind a wide lamp-post. To his surprise, the three people went back into the room without anymore conflict.

I should have known better... I didn't get rid of the surveillance cameras… couldn't see them anyway… Shit! Now I don't know how Fuuko is and can't go back to look for her and can't hang around anymore.

Mikagami hesitated for a few seconds before running into a deserted alley.

---

Fuuko waited for one minute. Five minutes. Seven minutes… Mikagami did not return. Beside her, two guys of at least fifteen years difference in age were jerking each other silly. She ignored them and stared blankly at her drink. She was back at the bar, and Chameleon had taken her role as the sultry bartender again.

The slight trickle of blood from a small wound in the chest had collected in a large pool of crimson, staining the red carpet with a darker shade.

Blood.

Silver hair. Long silver hair.

Fists curled into knuckles. There was so much blood. So much red. Fuuko buried her face in her hands. She wondered whether it was a coincidence that her drink was also a deep deep red. Maybe not. Maybe her subconscious mind recognized that color. So much that she almost thought herself obsessed. And obsession creates desire.

Now, maybe that was why she wanted to see blood.

She took a sip of her red red drink.

Maybe that was why she wanted to see silver hair in the blood.

---

Ten minutes more… the drink was finished.

She sat there, staring at all the bottles of liquor in glass cases. Her hand went to her jacket's pocket and fingered the cold metal there. Her enemy then and now… she wondered if it would ever change. She rarely used the thing, actually. Everything had been done by Fuujin.

At that, she turned her attention to her friend. No… a gun would be equivalent to a piece of scrape metal when the enemy is him. She sighed. In the end, it would be the little furball doing all the dirty work. Again. I'm sorry, Fuujin… I'm sorry… She ran her fingers lightly over the orb.

Glass shattered outside.

Fuuko was out of the door the next second. The night chill slapped her in the face, and she blinked. She could not even remember how she had gotten out of the crowd, nor why she reacted so weirdly. It was only glass shattering, dammit. Glass shatter everywhere.

The bouncer looked at her strangely.

She was about to turn back when she noticed there were no broken shards visible along the whole stretch of road. Nor was a little bit of noise going to penetrate through the rock music of the nightclub. This was no ordinary Carlsberg bottle.

Even with that, she was inclined to go back to the bar. She was not interested in glass, intact or broken.

It was completely by chance that she happened to catch a flash of silver just as she turned to go down the steps. Pure reflexes kicked in and she was tearing into one of the dark alleys along the street, where that silver was reflecting from. It was only a glimpse from the corner of the eye, but that glimpse confirmed that it was hair. Silver hair.

The darkness engulfed whatever it was in front of her. She just kept running. Once or twice her leg got caught on wire and she fell flat on her face. The moon was not out, and it was total darkness. She kept an ear out for whatever sounds she could pick up from in front of her. There were none. There may not even be anyone in front, common sense chided.

Whether there was anyone or not, Fuuko was not about to give up for a 'maybe'. The chances were fifty-fifty. It was cold. Not freezing cold, but still, a human being needed more covering than a tanktop. She dared not stop or slow to put on her jacket. The whole alley felt damp. The random wires and scattered glass shards were the most imminent threats in a situation where you could not see what the next step had in store for you. Something sharp roughly scraped past her calf, tearing open a deep wound. The blood flowed. Fuuko ran on.

The person in front of her, if there was any, either knew the place very well or was flying. There was no other ways to avoid the random killer objects that were strewn around. Fuuko stubbed her toes against another harder-than-necessary crate and almost fell. Breathing heavily, her body involuntarily took the chance to stop for a quarter of a second to rest. Then she was off again, chasing the darkness.

She was sure that was Mikagami. No one else could run that fast and that quietly. And she would have caught up long ago if it had not been for the constant tripping. Fuuko gritted her teeth and willed her legs to propel her onward, faster.

---

Mikagami narrowed his eyes. He could not throw his pursuer off his track. That was one fast one.

Once again, he had to thank the genetics in his body.

---

She was about to drop. She wanted oxygen. She carried on running.

It was not until something really hard crashed against her head that her knees buckled, and for the first time, allowed the limp body to fall onto the dirty ground.

Shit… stupid place… for a wall… Fuuko closed her eyes and lied there for a moment. Just rested. And breathed.

---

The noises behind ceased to sound. Mikagami really appreciated that.

He slowed down his speed but continued running. How long had the chase been? 20 minutes? He had been running at the speed of 11 seconds per 100 metres for 20 minutes. Needless to say, he was a step short from collapsing. But in this world, collapsing meant death. You won't even see the face of your murderer.

Actually, he had been pretty afraid when he fell in Kai's presence. His weapon was not in his hand; he was exposing his neck, back, heart, everywhere. He was helpless and he had not liked that. Currently, if he had any energy left, he would have laughed. Why did he even let the situation come to that? Why not just aim a little to the left, and pierce the heart? Even if he was not the one who… killed Mifuyu, well, what could he say? He kills at least ten strangers every month.

Mikagami, a little disgusted at his train of thoughts, wrenched his mind back to the present. He could not control the past, so it was better to concentrate on keeping himself alive. Oh, he was such an expert at that.

Everyone dies. Everyone he had loved died. But he was always alive.

The darkness gave way to the faint glow of a dying roadside lamppost. Mikagami came to the end of the alley. Cautiously, he drew out his gun. The alley led out to another road, an old and forgotten one. There was not even a tramp on the rotting bench. It was by some miracle that the lamppost still had electricity running to it.

Not far off to the right, there was something that looked like an abandoned construction site. Mikagami stole towards it. Time to end the chase.

---

Mikagami raced down the long stone passage. Some guy in a suit was on his tail. Weird. He was nowhere near as fast as the one in the alley. He certainly hoped there was only one in the eerie place. There was rubble everywhere. Half done walls were potential hiding places, and he tried in vain to avoid going close to them. Well, there he was, and if his sense of direction led him correctly, there should be a hole big enough for him at the end of the passage. It looked like so from the ground.

Somewhere in front, a feeble light filtered in. Good. That should be the window. Mikagami sprinted forward and swung himself out to the other side, onto empty air. He touched the ground softly the next second, barely making a sound. It was tall grass that cushioned and hid him. It was impossible for his enemy to see him in near-non-existent vision, more so when he was in tall grasses. But that did not necessarily apply to him.

Mikagami crouched down low. A few seconds later, a dark shape appeared at the window. Two bullets in the head. He was dead before he knew it.

Mikagami watched the dark shape fall back. Behind him, footsteps sounded. He whirled around immediately, aghast at his own carelessness.

The footsteps stopped. A familiar voice reached out to him.

"The blood on your hands,

She stood there.

"The love you killed,

Her eyes hidden in shadows.

"Recompense the pain,

She smiled.

"In Death."

The wind rose.


"Fuuko…?"

---

Query=situation_report

Results=positive. According to plan.

Orders=unchanged. Keep up with surveillance.

---

"What are you doing, Fuuko?" Mikagami snapped, a hand already on his gun.

She smiled, although it was a sad one. "What did you do, Mikagami? I thought you were my friend…"

"What?" Mikagami narrowed his eyes dangerously, his jaws clenching. "You tell me what I did."

"I thought I could rely on you, and Recca, and Yanagi, and Domon, and Koganei… I thought you were all my friends…"

"Put down that gun, Kirisawa."

"What else did the rest do? Is it only you? Can I trust them anymore?"

That's girl's got one corrupted head… Mikagami sighed internally, in frustration.

"I don't want to do this, Mikagami. What can you say? Tell me, tell me you didn't do it…" She cocked her head, and her grip on the semi-automatic tightened.

"They showed you something, didn't they," Mikagami concluded. "You saw something you're not supposed to see."

"It's too late. I already know." A tear fell. It could have been an illusion; Mikagami didn't know.

The wind whipped his hair about, and the wind was the only thing making the noise. It was silent, the silence. Mikagami did not make a sound; Fuuko aimed at his heart.

"Well, then shoot."

She tensed, then sadness diminished in a second, to be replaced by overwhelming rage. "Die, Metallica."

She pulled the trigger.

---

"Stop trying to avoid the topic, Fuu-chan. Tell me why you got into that fight," her mother sat down in front of her, a stern expression on her face.

"I said I don't know! Just leave me alone, mum!" Fuuko plugged her fingers into her ears and turned away, her knee unfortunately banging into the armrest of the chair she was on.

The day had not gone well, what with being ambushed four to one and all… she really did not need a preach on her public conduct.

"There are reasons for everything, Fuu-chan, and you know them. I really don't see why you need to pave your life with violence. You and Recca can get on better without fighting," her mother patronized, patient.

"Well, I just felt like it, alright?!! Now can you leave me alone?!" Fuuko hollered, irritated.

"Fuuko!" her mother frowned disapprovingly. Then she got an idea. "Let me tell you what. I'll give you a little challenge."

Fuuko paused, then sighed in resignation. "What?"

"I challenge you to stop fighting for one month," her mother said, determination and amusement both in her words.

"Why?"

"I only hope you can learn that violence doesn't solve everything, love. Revenge begets revenge, when will the thread end? You have been fighting with the other boys for so long now, I just wish you'd stop."

"Well, if anyone hurts you, won't you want someone to fight back for you? Who would just take a beating and be done with it?" Fuuko argued, then promptly shut up when she got hauled into her mother's embrace. She flushed, embarrassed, and tried to break free.

"Don't say that, Fuuko. I know for one, that even if anything unfortunate happens to me, I won't want you to go after the culprit. What's the point? There're always people who will cry no matter which side is punished. Look beyond the antagonist to the ties he holds behind his back, away from your eyes. I'm afraid, that one day, you will make a decision that you'd regret later, then everything will be too late to save, and you'll cry because you're the one who destroyed the picture in the first place."

---

There was the silence.

Nothing but the silence.

The tear rolled out of her eye, as she froze with the revolting cold metal in her hand, wishing she could undo her actions. The shot had rang loud and clear; she had forgotten the silencer. So loud… so final…

The hand that grasped the gun sudden felt numb, from the impact, from so many other things. Then it was so painful, she had to drop the dead heavy piece of metal. Fuuko screamed, as it hit the ground. Screamed into the night for the whole world to hear, and yet no one could.

Pained, strangled, confused, betrayed.

Then she collapsed into a heap, and howled.

Cried for a very long time.

The residing rats and other animals all hid in their shelters, trembling and frightened of the unwelcome intrusion. Fuuko buried her face in her lap, and stayed still even as the tears stopped. Quiet, and then there were the footsteps.

"You haven't killed before."

Fuuko glared up at the pale, cold face with the deepest hatred hidden inside her. "Shut up! Shut up or I'll really kill you!"

Mikagami picked up the semi-automatic lying beside her. "I should have known long before handing you a gun. Have you even used one before?"

"I said shut up!!" Fuuko screamed again, throwing her other gun wildly at Mikagami. He snatched it out of the air smoothly.

"What the hell are you crying for?" he asked coolly, taking a step towards the previously hysterical girl. He stood directly in front of her, and if he had not known better, he would have stepped closer. Fuuko looked rabid at that moment.

"You killed my mother! You took away the only person who loved me! What can I say now? You've won! I can't even avenge her properly! Laugh! You can laugh now!" she rose to her full height, eyes flashing, and slapped the assassin across the face. "Congratulations, my friend."

"What…?" Mikagami left the words hanging, barely feeling the sting of the slap.

"Betrayed, now I know how betrayal tastes like."

"You said I killed your mother."

Fuuko fell back onto the ground, and sat there, like all the strength had been sucked out.

"I didn't."

"At least you're bothering to deny it…" the words came out muffled. "Now tell me what I'm supposed to do… kill myself?"

"I didn't kill your mother."

Fuuko's muscles tensed. In a low voice, she said, clearly, "I hate you, Tokiya Mikagami, Metallica, whoever you are. I hate you."

"I repeat again, I didn't kill your mother. What prompted you to think so?" Mikagami kneeled down in front of her, and tried to look into her face. When she turned away, he pulled her back by the shoulder, and forcefully turned her chin towards him. They stared at each other. "Heard what I said? I said I didn't kill your mother."

"Then who is it…?" Fuuko asked in a small voice, sounding tired, so tired. "You expect me to believe you."

"I don't mean it that way." Mikagami let go of her, and she scrambled up at once.

"Don't tell me anything else. I'm drained, okay? Depleted. I don't want to feel anything else, so leave me alone." With that, she took off into the night, footsteps loud against the uneven gravel, leaving a troubled Mikagami behind.

He got up, and turned, walking in the direction of their hotel. There was nothing he could do until... what? He did not know. They should probably make a move soon, to somewhere else, and he was determined to get their things out before they were successfully traced. He sighed, softly, to himself. What can I say…? She thinks I killed her mother? Stupid monkey…

He fingered the two guns in his hands. Idiot…

He had known from the moment Fuuko put a finger on the trigger, that she was no regular with guns. He wondered if she ever got proper training and education on the safety measures and usage; he had a feeling she was depending on her natural-born good aim to shoot.

That was why he had not even bothered to dodge the bullet.

She had forgotten to cock the gun.

Inexperienced, pretending to be brave... pretending to know everything... He had noticed. Fuuko was trembling even as she held the gun and pulled the trigger. Her hands are still clean... even after everything.

Those thoughts were not condescending like they were, usually. To his own surprise, Mikagami found himself sympathizing with the wind girl.

Betrayed, now I know how betrayal tastes like.

And you think I don't?

It was then that he heard, distinctively, from far behind him, Fuuko's scream.


_________________________________________________________________________________________

This part was fast in coming, wasn't it? I've decided to shorten my chapters and in the meantime, shorten the production time *sheepish* I'm sorry for always taking so very long, always. Is this better? Or is the more and long system better?

I know there are confusing parts, like how Mikagami managed to see better than others in the dark, that part about his genetics. Answers as to why will come in future chapters ^o^ along with the complete reason for Fuuko becoming an assassin. Mikagami tends to behave very… aggressively when he's working… and as a sidenote, the author says he'll do almost anything to achieve his goal. Because he's been trained to do so and because the author says so.

For Fuuko's model of gun, the SIG she used, it has a decocking level that always looks half down, even if it's fully down. Fuuko mistakened it for being cocked when she fired the shot. (Wait, I'm not sure whether it's the decocking level or something else, but I'm sure it's something along these lines...) Just thought I'd like to clear the issue. Fuuko isn't that big of an idiot in my mind.

As an additional note, this fic is based on the storyline of the manga, and in the manga, Mikagami HAD a chance to kill Kai. He appeared behind Kai and took him by surprise, piercing his right chest. If Mikagami had wanted, he could have pierced his heart. And yeah, that was what I was talking about in the fic.

Thanks to Ferrum for the information on the guns.
Thanks a lot to Fire Arrow for being a dedicated reader *hugs* I really appreciate it very much.
Thanks to the new people who have added this fic to their favorites' list, though I don't know who you are...

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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.