Ranma pulled the post up out of the ground and pushed some of the
surrounding sand over the knives he'd hidden underneath. Then he dug
another hole a foot away from its predecessor and shoved the end of the
post into it before packing sand up against the sides to hold the wood
upright. The sand was dry and didn't pack well, instead just seeming to
settle easily to wherever he pushed it, so he just piled the stuff onto
the base as best as he could. After giving it a few experimental
shoves, he deemed his target stable enough to use.
He backed up to about twenty feet away, and threw his ten remaining
knives with his left hand. Then he retrieved them and returned to his
standing point. Ranma tried throwing with his right hand this time. He
hadn't magically improved since his last practice session.
Throwing two knives at once was next, so he fetched the knives again and
got ready to toss them. He stood at the previous spot, then closed his
eyes and visualized Chloe while she was practicing. He emulated the
vision, holding his body as close to her stance as he could. Then he
watched Chloe's movements in slow motion and followed them, his eyes
still closed, the only difference being that he didn't release when he
got to the end of the motion.
It felt right. He was going to do it perfectly this time.
Ranma opened his eyes, staring at the target now, and, with his blue
orbs staring, re-pictured Chloe's starting posture. Then he copied her
movements while fixating on the target, which was directly ahead of him.
The knives flew freely, he wasn't sure when they left his hands, and
sailed through the air towards the target. The left knife passed over
the top of it by about half a foot, the right-handed knife cutting
across to the left and then hitting the ground five feet to the opposite
side of the pole.
Ranma frowned, then closed his eyes and tried again. He superimposed
Chloe's image over his own kinesthetic sense of placement. He started
the movements, opening his eyes partway through to glare at the enemy.
His arms unerringly followed the paths set by those of another.
Release, and both missed. Again.
So did the next six, and the ten after that, and the ten after that,
and...
He was hungry, and it'd been hours since he'd last eaten of grapes.
Ranma collected the knives again, replacing them carefully into his
pants pockets. Five knives to a pocket were the most he could
comfortably fit, and even then, the hilts stuck out a few inches for
each one. At least that made them easy to pull out, if Chloe showed up
and he needed to use one of them as a distraction. She could be
somewhat startling, Chloe could, and requiring of diversion.
The trek back to the fields was uneventful. He looked around to see if
the girl was anywhere about, but failed to spot her hiding in the grass
or anything. Since it was a little after noon he figured she was
probably in eating lunch. She might not eat as much as he did, but she
did clean her plate (sometimes with his help) every time he saw her sit
down to a meal.
Ranma sat down in one of the fields he hadn't filched from before. He
didn't want to develop a habit of eating at the same place, and strip
the area or something equally drastic. Not that he'd be here for that
long.
The grapes tasted as they usually did, like little balloons bursting of
sweet water, foiled only by the hard seeds contained within. The fleshy
remains scattered as wind-swept corpse ashes, tossed about in random
directions as one hand snatched at the next morsel and the other
disposed of the previous.
Good as they were, his belly still felt like it sloshed of liquid after
binging on the things. A change of provisions would be nice. Something
heavier and more substantial, like rice or noodles, maybe some fish or
even a beef bowl. Cup ramen would be wonderful.
Ranma wondered if they had any of that in France, and where in France it
would be, since it wasn't here.
He glimpsed over at the Manor again, and this time a lack of
motionlessness was present. Chloe was exiting the building.
She stopped after marching a few paces, then started to look around.
Her face revolved slowly as she searched for him. Partway through the
task her jaw detached itself in a wide yawn. Ranma grinned, wishing he
was close enough to toss in a grape.
After glaring about, probably wondering if he saw that, Chloe set off
towards the coliseum, or the ruins beyond. He waited as she walked by,
giving her a good five-minute lead, and then stood himself, playing the
wine keg. Bread would be nice, too.
Ranma followed at a discreet distance and made like an ostrich whenever
she seemed about to look backwards. It hurt, sometimes. His clothes
got dirtier, the dried red blood of his previously white shirt becoming
overlaid with a caking of brown. His feet were holding together well,
though. Cold sharp rocks seemed to be their weakness.
She went into the coliseum so he ran along the outside of the building
until he came to one of the other entrances. He didn't want to be
caught the same way he'd done her, jumping down from over the
passageway. Chloe wouldn't use the opportunity as a chance to escape.
When he reached the inner end of the tunnel he sidled up to one of the
corners, watching in the opposite direction for Chloe to come into view.
When she didn't, he peeked around the stones at his back, to check the
other side of the arena. He saw her enter the tunnel that was opposite
the direction of the Manor. The one that led directly into the middle
of the ruins.
He waited a minute and then dashed out into the open, quickly reaching
the passageway Chloe had walked. He again peeked around the corner and
saw that she was near the opening on the other side. When she got
there, she kept going straight, following the road that lead in that
direction rather than turning to one side. The passageway was dark
enough, shadowed enough, that he decided to risk following her down it.
He could flatten himself down again if she turned around for some reason
and probably not be seen.
Once he reached the end he quickly turned right down one of the side
roads, hiding behind a wall whose face was perpendicular to the road
Chloe was on. If she looked back and he wasn't hiding behind something
she would see him, with the flat stones making up the street surface and
the sun being overhead to reveal any sneakiness. Laying on the ground
in that situation would only give her a head start on tagging him.
Chloe continued going straight and the road remained unbending. There
was no way for him to follow her without making himself painfully
visible, so Ranma hurried down the side street he was hiding in, turned
left, and then traveled a few blocks in Chloe's direction. Then he
turned left, sneaking up to the corner and peeking right around it.
Chloe was another couple of blocks ahead, just as he had anticipated,
still walking forward.
Where was she going? The direction she was headed in would just take
her through the ruined city, with the more broken-down buildings being
ahead of her. The hot springs were in another direction, she would have
had to turn right like he had in order to get to those.
Ranma followed, checking her progress every few blocks while he ran
along the road parallel to Chloe heading.
Soon the stone buildings began to show increasing signs of disorder.
Stones were strewn about the roadway, obviously parts of damaged houses
or whatever the stone structures that lined the streets had been. Some
walls were caved inwards, some ceilings collapsed. The destruction
hadn't been caused by the passing ages--if they had, all of the
buildings would have been similarly effected. Had there been some kind
of fight here? When was it, when the city was abandoned, or did it
occur afterwards?
There wasn't anything that indicated explosions had done the damage.
The rocks didn't have holes and craters blasted into them, so he didn't
think that whatever had caused the devastation hadn't been some kind of
modern weaponry. Not unless a tank had just come rolling in and knocked
everything over, anyway.
Catching himself spending more time looking at his surroundings than
looking after Chloe, Ranma rushed down the sidestreet once more. He
again looked around the corner, this one barely his own height due to
the missing blocks of stone. Chloe wasn't there.
He looked back in the opposite direction, to see if she had turned
around, but saw nothing. She must have turned down one of the streets
when he wasn't paying attention. But where had she gone? There hadn't
been anything interesting in the area when he'd come by earlier.
Nothing worth walking all the way from the Manor for, certainly.
Ranma stepped out into the street and turned right, following the
direction Chloe had been going. He walked quickly, looking down the
smaller streets on each side as he traveled, checking for her presence.
He saw nothing. The buildings were damaged heavily here, only some of
them even having intact walls facing the street. He stepped carefully
to avoid the stone fragments that littered the street.
After a few blocks he stopped. Maybe she had turned and gone back the
other way, or taken a turn before he'd switched to this road? If she
had continued this far he would have been able see her still. Or...
His eyes widened.
Ranma jumped to the side and two knives hit the stone street a moment
later, passing through the spot he'd been standing. Chloe was above,
had climbed up one of the ruined buildings and waited for him from the
rooftop. Right as he moved, she threw again and he had no doubt that
she was going as quickly as she was able, because they came two at a
time, one pair after the other as he leapt about and dodged as best and
as erratically as he could.
After a minute of this his foot came down hard on a rough piece of rock.
He yelled out in pain and pushed himself off with his other leg, rolling
towards Chloe, getting a few more rocks in the back for the cost of his
escape as two more knives barely missed him. There was no way to make a
drastic change of directions in mid-somersault using only one leg. He
used his momentum to roll to his feet, ignoring the still-stabbing pain
in his foot and now back, and tossed the knives he'd snatched from his
pockets during that last move.
They weren't great throws but they caused Chloe to pause for a second.
He used the opportunity to move forward again, more easily now, to use
the wall of the building Chloe stood upon as shelter. He grabbed a few
rocks, bending down as he ran and snatching them up. Rocks he was good
with.
Now close to the building, he ran alongside it, heading for the nearest
way up to the top. Ranma heard a slight scuffle behind him, on the
opposite side of the street. He stopped and whirled, tossing a rock at
where the noise had come from. One of Chloe's knives hit the wall
behind his ear, bouncing off in the right direction to miss getting him
on the ricochet. The girl ducked to avoid getting hit in the face with
his rock. They both threw again.
They both dodged, and he could see the frustration on her face. She had
to be getting low on knives. He had two pockets full of the things. He
threw another rock, keeping an eye on Chloe's arms as she did the same,
using his judgment of the throw vector to anticipate where the knives
would be, and dodge them. This time he dodged towards Chloe. She was
fifteen feet away.
She looked angry at the advance but moved to meet him. A blade was in
each hand and she was in a knife-fighter's stance, something he'd only
seen once before when his father had gotten into a drunken brawl with
someone who was fond of making stabbing gestures. She held the side of
her body towards him, left arm leading with knife extended and the right
hovering in front of her torso, waiting for a chance to twist her body
towards him and plunge the knife into his stomach or neck or something
else that was soft necessary for Ranma's well-being. Ranma made the
mental adjustments to compensate for Chloe's extra range.
He tossed one of his rocks at her head and she ducked while sidling
forwards, now only a few feet away. The last rock followed on a heading
for her gut. Chloe used the flat of her left knife to knock it away,
stepping forward with her right foot and turning her body so that the
right side was the vanguard, gaining more ground as she did so.
She turned that movement into a forward lunge, knife leading in a full-
body motion with her weight emphasized on the attacking arm and
shoulder. Ranma used his left hand to deflected her arm, knocking it to
the inside of her body line and preventing a strike with her other
knife. While she was off-center he stepped in with the right leg and
punched her in the stomach. She tensed before the blow landed to help
absorb the damage, but he could tell that her breath was still knocked
out by the hit.
She stepped back and twisted left, continuing the momentum of the push
he'd given her, bringing her left arm and knife around in an arc to make
a backhanded swipe at him. Ranma used his right hand to grab her arm
just above the elbow and his left caught her wrist, stopping the leading
knife and leaving her out of line for attacking with her right.
He pulled down and back on her wrist, keeping the elbow steady, his
leverage making her body try to flip forward. Chloe went with the
force, bending down. Ranma hopped back slightly when she tried to plant
her other knife into one of his feet, then gave her arm a more vicious
twist. She cried out and he used his right leg to kick her hand away.
The knife flew free from her hand and skidded down the stones of the
street.
Chloe's right arm being knocked wide put more pressure on her left and
he could feel more of her weight pulling on her trapped arm. She yelled
out in pain again. Ranma pushed down on her elbow, bringing the wrist
and forearm further up and extending Chloe's whimpers. He stepped to
the inside of her arm, his foot wrapping about her ankle, and released
the elbow. His body keeping the elbow pinned in place, he used his free
hand to wrench Chloe's knife away. Then he used the girl's twisted arm
to push her away. His ankle caused her to go to the ground and he
stepped back cautiously. The knife slipped into one of his pockets.
Ranma grinned. He knew what was next. Now that he'd beat Chloe she'd
have to feed him, just like with Ukyou. It would truly be a wonderful
thing to have a wider range of food substances. Essence of no-grape.
Except that Chloe didn't get up.
Chloe lied on her side, collapsed to the ground with her left arm tucked
protectively inside her cloak. Red-purple hair covered the upper half
of her face and Ranma couldn't see her expression at all. She was
shaking slightly.
Ranma's mouth did a one-eighty. Was she crying? She was, wasn't she?
Man, there was a reason he didn't like playing with girls; they played
along with the fun games until they lost and then they got all weepy, or
they clung to you with demands to play house or doctor or some silly
crap like that. With Chloe being such a tomboy he'd thought she would
be as fun as Ukyou had been, but if she was gonna get like this over a
twisted arm...
"Hey, quit that!" he demanded.
Chloe's only response was to pull her cloak tighter around herself,
defensively. She turned her face away from him, pointing it towards the
stone beneath. The rock fragments were probably digging into her cheek,
but she didn't show it. Or if she did, Ranma couldn't tell.
"Quit it!" he said again. He hated it when girls pulled this.
Ranma picked up a few small rocks and bounced them off of Chloe's hair.
One of her hands snatched the edge of the cloak and yanked it up as
protection, wrapping it over her head. The red-purple fluff disappeared
under a dark, solid green. The bottom of the cloak pulled up some to
expose her feet and lower legs.
Grinning again, he leaned forward to poke her behind the knee, then
yanked himself backwards just in time to avoid Chloe's swiping at him
with another knife as her left arm came slicing out from behind the
cloak. When she missed Chloe pushed herself off the ground with her
right arm, springing forward to try to stab at him again with the left.
Ranma twisted frantically and knocked her arm to his right, giving Chloe
who was smiling fiercely the opportunity to turn with the force and
bring in her other hand, which also had a knife now. She was still
moving forward and that gave her enough speed that he couldn't block or
deflect the blow in time. He twisted and the knife thrust most of its
length into his left arm.
"Ow! That HURT!" he yelled at her. Chloe tried to pull the knife back
so he let her, then grabbed her wrist with his left hand before she
could stab him again. His arm was weak and he could feel blood running
down it, but he yanked on her wrist, bringing her right up against him
before she could try anything with the other arm. He smashed his
forehead into her face and she was knocked backwards, off-balance from
trying to knee him in the groin.
His arm pleaded with him to release her wrist but Ranma ignored the
whiny bastard and kept at it. Chloe still hadn't recovered when he
punched her in the stomach. This time she wasn't ready for it and she
was pushed back, folding forwards slightly. Her face was white and she
struggled to breathe, but she still tried to bring the other knife
around to cut at him.
Ranma twisted and moved forward underneath her extended arm, yanking it
up behind her back. He could feel her chest heaving as she struggled
against him, still unable to pull in air. She stomped on one of his
feet, her heal crushing him into the stone beneath. Ranma yelled in
pain and shoved her away. The edge of her knife sliced his hand as she
pulled it to in front of her. He took a few steps back and she turned
around and did the same, glaring at him triumphantly.
Ranma looked at his hand. A long cut ran the length of his palm. It
wasn't too deep but blood was running freely from the wound, mixing with
what had already coated his arm from when she'd stabbed him just before.
Chloe's knives were very sharp and it hadn't hurt much at first, but
where his arm had been punctured he could now feel the buzzing of a
million invisible bees as they began to dig into his flesh, working
their way into him, an invasion of spreading stings and chewing insects.
He let his arm drop and the blood fell to the floor a tiny bit at a
time, the trickle slow but steady, that of the leaking milk caused by a
full baby who still sucks habitually at teat. Red paint dripped
similarly from one of Chloe's knives, gripped caressingly, reverently in
a tiny fist. The other knife was handled with disdain, scorn, and it
screamed in jealousy and a desire to prove itself. Chloe seemed willing
to give it another chance.
He curled his fist. "You cheated," Ranma accused. She had.
"Pretending to cry like that, jeez, that was low."
She smirked in response. "Anything-Goes. There are no rules, right?"
"...Yeah. Just remember that." His smile made his head feel tight.
The bees were spreading. He had a special attack he could use now. An
appropriate one. One Chloe deserved.
Ranma jumped forward to attack, his right hand coming up sharply,
releasing the knife he'd pulled out of a pocket. It was aimed correctly
and Chloe was forced to dodge, losing her stance in the hasty step to
the side. She stepped right into his other attack. His left hand flung
forward, snapping open as it jerked to a halt at the end of his reach,
and collected blood spat itself at Chloe. She barely had time to
flinch, to stop it from getting into her eyes, but it still splashed all
over her face and forehead, running down, thick red opaqueness hampering
her vision with a salty sting of not-quite-sweat.
Her hesitation cost and Ranma kept moving forward. Extended knife arm
was knocked aside and his foot slammed into the side of her left knee.
She cried out, went down. As she fell away her right arm crossed her
body, Chloe bringing the knife around to throw at his chest. He arched
his back and it flew past, then he bent forward again to punch Chloe in
the jaw, her face smacking against the stone beneath and stunning her.
Ranma grabbed the edge of Chloe's cloak and ripped it away from her. He
stumbled back when the cloth pulled out from where it was pinned under
her body. A red handprint branded the green. He clenched his fist
around the fabric to help slow the bleeding. Plus it'd stain better.
Chloe got up awkwardly, having trouble standing. The empty hand went to
her cheek and she was glaring at him again. Ranma could see her
harnesses, one on each limb, and it looked like five fit to each arm and
eight to a leg. They were empty, but Chloe still had one more knife.
Plus there were others from when she'd been throwing at him that were
scattered all over the road surface, easy to pick up. Underneath she
had clothes identical to what he was wearing; a long-sleeve white
button-up shirt and a pair of brown cotton pants. She also wore tennis
shoes, dirty white and with big laces.
She looked very angry to be without her cloak.
"Give it back!" The blood on her face turned her enraged, upset look
into something ridiculous.
"Umm... no." Ranma grinned, then wiped the wrap against his bloody arm,
turning it into a soiled, oversized rag. Chloe's fist tightened around
her last blade and he wondered if she'd try throwing it. He could block
or deflect with the cloak. "You have another one of these, don't you?
I like this one."
The girl wiped her arm across her face, her eyes. The blood streaked
over her skin but didn't go anywhere. But she didn't attack, she just
watched him angrily.
Ranma frowned, made a guess. "Catch," he said, and tossed the cloak.
The blood made it stick and fall short. Chloe stumbled when she stepped
forward to catch, the knee he'd stomped buckling under her weight. She
gave him another glare and then held open the cloak to see the
bloodstains that covered it.
"I hate you," she said quietly.
He stared at Chloe, then picked up a rock and tossed it at her. She
moved the cloth aside and the stone bounced off her injured knee. Chloe
made a small noise but continued to stare at the bloody handprints.
"...whatever. Seeya later," he said, then turned and ran down the
street before she could reply or throw her knife at him.
Blood didn't wash off. This was something she knew well. Because of
that, she was always careful to not get blood on her clothes or on
herself. The cloak wasn't hers. Chloe didn't know whose it was, but
she'd found it some years earlier. It had seemed like a nice blanket,
the dark fabric warm and soft.
Artena had been surprised at her discovery. Her smile had seemed sad,
then, and Chloe was sure she was going to be told to put the cloak back
where she'd found it. Instead, Artena told her what it was for, and
that she could use it if she was very careful. The older woman hadn't
said who had used it previously, and Chloe hadn't asked. But she
wondered.
And blood didn't wash off easy. From her first few assassinations she
knew that to be the case. Standing to close to the victim, the knife or
sometimes bullet hitting in the right (or wrong) spot, a brief spray,
and the clothes had to be scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed. They
wouldn't come clean. Artena just threw the clothes out once they got
blood on them.
Chloe tucked the cloak under her arm and then slowly limped around the
street, picking up and harnessing her knives. It took only a few
minutes, then she hobbled to the nearest side street and turned towards
the hot springs. Maybe if the blood didn't have enough time to dry, she
could clean it off. The water was hot and she could scrub it out.
Maybe.
Her knee was badly sprained and each step drilled a thick steel pin
home. The pant leg surrounding it seemed tight, tighter than it should
be, and she was sure that her pants weren't getting smaller. The other
knee still had plenty of room. She stepped carefully but sometimes her
haste turned the pin into heavy pick chopping away at pain barriers.
Her cheek throbbed, too, but that was a lesser pain, more easily
ignored. It didn't fluctuate, it was just a steady hum along her
nerves. Except when she clenched her teeth those times when her knee
got hit by a sledgehammer. Then it did hurt, but not as much.
It took her a half hour to reach the hot springs. The blood felt dry.
The color was darkened and drying out to an almost-brown. Her own
clothes she would have deemed trash. Not this, though.
There were several small springs, the water bubbling up in different
areas. Only the biggest one, the one with the lowest temperature, had
steps leading down into it. One of the others was almost hot enough to
boil. The earth surrounding it was of a similar temperature. Chloe
could feel the heat seeping through her shoes and knew she wouldn't be
able to stay here long.
Crouching was hell. Each thump of the fuel lines contracting was a
crushing blow designed to torment. She almost wished for her leg to
fall off so that her knee would stop hurting. But if it did she
wouldn't be able to keep her balance when doing this, so she suffered
willingly. She would clean the cloak.
She carefully dipped the garment into the water. When she pulled it
back out it steamed. Red dripped down from where it was heaviest,
spreading in a diluted red dye throughout the rest of the material. She
laid the cloak out on top of the ground and tried scrubbing at the blood
with a flat rock. It'd work the clotted, thick mess free yet wasn't
rough-edged enough to cause tears or permanent stretching. She hoped.
She started where the blood was like a printed plastic design on a
shirt; heavy and stiffening, making the cloth feel cheap and
uncomfortable. The crust softened slightly, turned more reddish and
runny, the absorbed water a thin spongy sheet that collected the dry
excess as it was rubbed free.
Chloe moved on to each bit of the stain, burning her hands on the cloak
and ground whenever they slipped from the rock, ignoring her sawed-off
knee's protests as she rocked back and forth, pushing the rock as best
she could. Soon the scrubbed areas were so littered with bits of
congealed blood that she couldn't tell what was still stuck to the
cloak. So she picked it up and leaned forward painfully to dip the
reddish-green thing into the water again, holding one edge carefully as
she shook the cloak back and forth. Dirty crimson specks swam free like
ship-jumpers escaping the sinking Titanic.
When she pulled the cloak free the remaining stains looked almost like
they'd been there forever. The affected areas just had a little blood
dried into them, nothing she could pull off with her fingernails or
separate from the actual cloth. But the discoloring was easy to see.
A few hours later she started back for the Manor. The cloak was heavy
and dripped, the water she hadn't been able to wring out escaping
slowly. It was hot, too, where she carried it draped over one shoulder,
and the moisture seeped into her shirt where they touched.
The blood hadn't come out, and now appeared baked into the threads.
Her walk was slow. The injured knee was worse and she could barely take
a step without wanting to cry. If she thought she could make it far
enough she would try hopping on the other leg, but even holding her
damaged one up was very painful. Chloe wished she could just lie down
and wait for Artena to come and carry her back to the Manor, but why
would Artena bother?
So she took one excruciating step after another, trying not to think
about what Artena's reaction to the ruining of the cloak Chloe had been
lent would be.
It took her almost two hours to walk back to the Manor. Usually it was
a quick but relaxed forty minutes. Today it was the march from hell.
The sun was low and it was about time for dinner when Chloe arrived.
She didn't know if she'd be able to eat anything. Her stomach felt
empty, butterflies need room for high-speed maneuvers, but she didn't
think holding it down would be easy. She kept picturing Artena's
disappointment at her failure to be Noir, and her failure to keep the
cloak, whoever it belonged to, from getting damaged. The tears and thin
runs of snot that dripped off her chin weren't all because of an injured
knee.
She hobbled through the doorway. The smell of food scampered about like
an energetic puppy, making Chloe feel nauseous. She slowed beyond what
he pain limits required, not sure if she really wanted to go to the
kitchen. She knew she had to, though. She couldn't hide from Artena.
She'd tried it before and it always made the woman sad. Chloe didn't
want that.
So she stepped slowly, timorously, through the threshold and into the
kitchen.
Artena was at the stove, stirring something that smelled like it would
make her taste buds explode in an orgasmic frenzy. Chloe's stomach did
flips and somersaults and all kinds of acrobatics that involved not
staying still. She stood motionless, waiting. Chloe was sure that
Artena knew she was there, knew when she had entered the Manor and
probably knew when she'd even gotten close to it. Artena was much
better than she was. So was that girl.
After a couple of minutes, Artena turned to look at her. Chloe stood
still, dirty clothes hanging limply, her skin contaminated by dust and
scrapes. She could feel the deep bruise on her cheek, and the
incriminating evidence hung heavily on her shoulder. Her knee trembled.
Artena's eyes studied her up and down, measuring, taking everything in.
No surprise was evident, the woman just stood there, taller and prettier
and better than Chloe would ever be, looking at her as though she had
expected Chloe to show up with such a bedraggled appearance. Except for
when she saw the cloak. When Artena saw the cloak her eyes widened
slightly and Chloe died. That hadn't been expected. Artena had thought
she would do better than that.
"Dinner will be ready in a few minutes," Artena said, turning back to
her preparations. "Why don't you go get changed?"
"Yes, Artena-sama," Chloe said quietly. She turned and limped off to
her room.
Easing her leg out of the pants was difficult. The knee had swelled
badly, it hadn't been her imagination that made the pants tight. Chloe
didn't want to ruin another garment, though, so she pulled the knee out
sharply. She wiped her face on the sleeve of her shirt, especially her
eyes, which were dirty, and changed out of that, as well, carefully
putting on new, clean clothes. Artena would do the laundry later,
hopefully getting out any of the simple stains that might be in the
stuff she was wearing. Chloe carried the dirties, along with the cloak,
to the room the laundry stuff was in.
After she put her clothes in the basket she hesitated, then went to the
kitchen, still with the cloak. Artena had already seen it, but...
The table was already set when she got to the dining room, and the food
was placed. Artena stood up when Chloe entered. She took the cloak
without a word, then held Chloe's chair for her and helped her scoot it
in after she'd sat. Then Artena went to her own place again and did the
same. She put the cloak on her lap.
When Artena started to eat, Chloe did the same. The silence that was
normally comfortable wasn't. Every time Chloe started to look up at
Artena she caught herself and tried to concentrate on her food. She
didn't want to see. Eventually her eyes met Artena's and she looked
away, ashamed.
"Artena-same, I-"
"Why don't you tell me what happened?" the woman interrupted, and Chloe
nodded miserably.
She told Artena of how she'd gone to the ruins to look for Ranma and
noticed him following her, then how she'd waited and attacked from
ambush and still failed. She told Artena of how she'd been beaten, how
she'd tricked Ranma and then stabbed and cut him. She told Artena of
how Ranma had just left when she'd been defeated for real. And she told
Artena of how she'd tried to clean the cloak, but that the blood
wouldn't come off.
At that, Artena stopped eating and looked down at her lap. "You tried
cleaning this in the hot springs?"
"Yes, Artena-sama," she answered.
"Stains only come out when washed in cold water," Artena said quietly.
Chloe didn't look up. Her plate was wet, but it wasn't from something
she'd been served. She didn't want to look up.
"I'm sorry, Artena-sama."
surrounding sand over the knives he'd hidden underneath. Then he dug
another hole a foot away from its predecessor and shoved the end of the
post into it before packing sand up against the sides to hold the wood
upright. The sand was dry and didn't pack well, instead just seeming to
settle easily to wherever he pushed it, so he just piled the stuff onto
the base as best as he could. After giving it a few experimental
shoves, he deemed his target stable enough to use.
He backed up to about twenty feet away, and threw his ten remaining
knives with his left hand. Then he retrieved them and returned to his
standing point. Ranma tried throwing with his right hand this time. He
hadn't magically improved since his last practice session.
Throwing two knives at once was next, so he fetched the knives again and
got ready to toss them. He stood at the previous spot, then closed his
eyes and visualized Chloe while she was practicing. He emulated the
vision, holding his body as close to her stance as he could. Then he
watched Chloe's movements in slow motion and followed them, his eyes
still closed, the only difference being that he didn't release when he
got to the end of the motion.
It felt right. He was going to do it perfectly this time.
Ranma opened his eyes, staring at the target now, and, with his blue
orbs staring, re-pictured Chloe's starting posture. Then he copied her
movements while fixating on the target, which was directly ahead of him.
The knives flew freely, he wasn't sure when they left his hands, and
sailed through the air towards the target. The left knife passed over
the top of it by about half a foot, the right-handed knife cutting
across to the left and then hitting the ground five feet to the opposite
side of the pole.
Ranma frowned, then closed his eyes and tried again. He superimposed
Chloe's image over his own kinesthetic sense of placement. He started
the movements, opening his eyes partway through to glare at the enemy.
His arms unerringly followed the paths set by those of another.
Release, and both missed. Again.
So did the next six, and the ten after that, and the ten after that,
and...
He was hungry, and it'd been hours since he'd last eaten of grapes.
Ranma collected the knives again, replacing them carefully into his
pants pockets. Five knives to a pocket were the most he could
comfortably fit, and even then, the hilts stuck out a few inches for
each one. At least that made them easy to pull out, if Chloe showed up
and he needed to use one of them as a distraction. She could be
somewhat startling, Chloe could, and requiring of diversion.
The trek back to the fields was uneventful. He looked around to see if
the girl was anywhere about, but failed to spot her hiding in the grass
or anything. Since it was a little after noon he figured she was
probably in eating lunch. She might not eat as much as he did, but she
did clean her plate (sometimes with his help) every time he saw her sit
down to a meal.
Ranma sat down in one of the fields he hadn't filched from before. He
didn't want to develop a habit of eating at the same place, and strip
the area or something equally drastic. Not that he'd be here for that
long.
The grapes tasted as they usually did, like little balloons bursting of
sweet water, foiled only by the hard seeds contained within. The fleshy
remains scattered as wind-swept corpse ashes, tossed about in random
directions as one hand snatched at the next morsel and the other
disposed of the previous.
Good as they were, his belly still felt like it sloshed of liquid after
binging on the things. A change of provisions would be nice. Something
heavier and more substantial, like rice or noodles, maybe some fish or
even a beef bowl. Cup ramen would be wonderful.
Ranma wondered if they had any of that in France, and where in France it
would be, since it wasn't here.
He glimpsed over at the Manor again, and this time a lack of
motionlessness was present. Chloe was exiting the building.
She stopped after marching a few paces, then started to look around.
Her face revolved slowly as she searched for him. Partway through the
task her jaw detached itself in a wide yawn. Ranma grinned, wishing he
was close enough to toss in a grape.
After glaring about, probably wondering if he saw that, Chloe set off
towards the coliseum, or the ruins beyond. He waited as she walked by,
giving her a good five-minute lead, and then stood himself, playing the
wine keg. Bread would be nice, too.
Ranma followed at a discreet distance and made like an ostrich whenever
she seemed about to look backwards. It hurt, sometimes. His clothes
got dirtier, the dried red blood of his previously white shirt becoming
overlaid with a caking of brown. His feet were holding together well,
though. Cold sharp rocks seemed to be their weakness.
She went into the coliseum so he ran along the outside of the building
until he came to one of the other entrances. He didn't want to be
caught the same way he'd done her, jumping down from over the
passageway. Chloe wouldn't use the opportunity as a chance to escape.
When he reached the inner end of the tunnel he sidled up to one of the
corners, watching in the opposite direction for Chloe to come into view.
When she didn't, he peeked around the stones at his back, to check the
other side of the arena. He saw her enter the tunnel that was opposite
the direction of the Manor. The one that led directly into the middle
of the ruins.
He waited a minute and then dashed out into the open, quickly reaching
the passageway Chloe had walked. He again peeked around the corner and
saw that she was near the opening on the other side. When she got
there, she kept going straight, following the road that lead in that
direction rather than turning to one side. The passageway was dark
enough, shadowed enough, that he decided to risk following her down it.
He could flatten himself down again if she turned around for some reason
and probably not be seen.
Once he reached the end he quickly turned right down one of the side
roads, hiding behind a wall whose face was perpendicular to the road
Chloe was on. If she looked back and he wasn't hiding behind something
she would see him, with the flat stones making up the street surface and
the sun being overhead to reveal any sneakiness. Laying on the ground
in that situation would only give her a head start on tagging him.
Chloe continued going straight and the road remained unbending. There
was no way for him to follow her without making himself painfully
visible, so Ranma hurried down the side street he was hiding in, turned
left, and then traveled a few blocks in Chloe's direction. Then he
turned left, sneaking up to the corner and peeking right around it.
Chloe was another couple of blocks ahead, just as he had anticipated,
still walking forward.
Where was she going? The direction she was headed in would just take
her through the ruined city, with the more broken-down buildings being
ahead of her. The hot springs were in another direction, she would have
had to turn right like he had in order to get to those.
Ranma followed, checking her progress every few blocks while he ran
along the road parallel to Chloe heading.
Soon the stone buildings began to show increasing signs of disorder.
Stones were strewn about the roadway, obviously parts of damaged houses
or whatever the stone structures that lined the streets had been. Some
walls were caved inwards, some ceilings collapsed. The destruction
hadn't been caused by the passing ages--if they had, all of the
buildings would have been similarly effected. Had there been some kind
of fight here? When was it, when the city was abandoned, or did it
occur afterwards?
There wasn't anything that indicated explosions had done the damage.
The rocks didn't have holes and craters blasted into them, so he didn't
think that whatever had caused the devastation hadn't been some kind of
modern weaponry. Not unless a tank had just come rolling in and knocked
everything over, anyway.
Catching himself spending more time looking at his surroundings than
looking after Chloe, Ranma rushed down the sidestreet once more. He
again looked around the corner, this one barely his own height due to
the missing blocks of stone. Chloe wasn't there.
He looked back in the opposite direction, to see if she had turned
around, but saw nothing. She must have turned down one of the streets
when he wasn't paying attention. But where had she gone? There hadn't
been anything interesting in the area when he'd come by earlier.
Nothing worth walking all the way from the Manor for, certainly.
Ranma stepped out into the street and turned right, following the
direction Chloe had been going. He walked quickly, looking down the
smaller streets on each side as he traveled, checking for her presence.
He saw nothing. The buildings were damaged heavily here, only some of
them even having intact walls facing the street. He stepped carefully
to avoid the stone fragments that littered the street.
After a few blocks he stopped. Maybe she had turned and gone back the
other way, or taken a turn before he'd switched to this road? If she
had continued this far he would have been able see her still. Or...
His eyes widened.
Ranma jumped to the side and two knives hit the stone street a moment
later, passing through the spot he'd been standing. Chloe was above,
had climbed up one of the ruined buildings and waited for him from the
rooftop. Right as he moved, she threw again and he had no doubt that
she was going as quickly as she was able, because they came two at a
time, one pair after the other as he leapt about and dodged as best and
as erratically as he could.
After a minute of this his foot came down hard on a rough piece of rock.
He yelled out in pain and pushed himself off with his other leg, rolling
towards Chloe, getting a few more rocks in the back for the cost of his
escape as two more knives barely missed him. There was no way to make a
drastic change of directions in mid-somersault using only one leg. He
used his momentum to roll to his feet, ignoring the still-stabbing pain
in his foot and now back, and tossed the knives he'd snatched from his
pockets during that last move.
They weren't great throws but they caused Chloe to pause for a second.
He used the opportunity to move forward again, more easily now, to use
the wall of the building Chloe stood upon as shelter. He grabbed a few
rocks, bending down as he ran and snatching them up. Rocks he was good
with.
Now close to the building, he ran alongside it, heading for the nearest
way up to the top. Ranma heard a slight scuffle behind him, on the
opposite side of the street. He stopped and whirled, tossing a rock at
where the noise had come from. One of Chloe's knives hit the wall
behind his ear, bouncing off in the right direction to miss getting him
on the ricochet. The girl ducked to avoid getting hit in the face with
his rock. They both threw again.
They both dodged, and he could see the frustration on her face. She had
to be getting low on knives. He had two pockets full of the things. He
threw another rock, keeping an eye on Chloe's arms as she did the same,
using his judgment of the throw vector to anticipate where the knives
would be, and dodge them. This time he dodged towards Chloe. She was
fifteen feet away.
She looked angry at the advance but moved to meet him. A blade was in
each hand and she was in a knife-fighter's stance, something he'd only
seen once before when his father had gotten into a drunken brawl with
someone who was fond of making stabbing gestures. She held the side of
her body towards him, left arm leading with knife extended and the right
hovering in front of her torso, waiting for a chance to twist her body
towards him and plunge the knife into his stomach or neck or something
else that was soft necessary for Ranma's well-being. Ranma made the
mental adjustments to compensate for Chloe's extra range.
He tossed one of his rocks at her head and she ducked while sidling
forwards, now only a few feet away. The last rock followed on a heading
for her gut. Chloe used the flat of her left knife to knock it away,
stepping forward with her right foot and turning her body so that the
right side was the vanguard, gaining more ground as she did so.
She turned that movement into a forward lunge, knife leading in a full-
body motion with her weight emphasized on the attacking arm and
shoulder. Ranma used his left hand to deflected her arm, knocking it to
the inside of her body line and preventing a strike with her other
knife. While she was off-center he stepped in with the right leg and
punched her in the stomach. She tensed before the blow landed to help
absorb the damage, but he could tell that her breath was still knocked
out by the hit.
She stepped back and twisted left, continuing the momentum of the push
he'd given her, bringing her left arm and knife around in an arc to make
a backhanded swipe at him. Ranma used his right hand to grab her arm
just above the elbow and his left caught her wrist, stopping the leading
knife and leaving her out of line for attacking with her right.
He pulled down and back on her wrist, keeping the elbow steady, his
leverage making her body try to flip forward. Chloe went with the
force, bending down. Ranma hopped back slightly when she tried to plant
her other knife into one of his feet, then gave her arm a more vicious
twist. She cried out and he used his right leg to kick her hand away.
The knife flew free from her hand and skidded down the stones of the
street.
Chloe's right arm being knocked wide put more pressure on her left and
he could feel more of her weight pulling on her trapped arm. She yelled
out in pain again. Ranma pushed down on her elbow, bringing the wrist
and forearm further up and extending Chloe's whimpers. He stepped to
the inside of her arm, his foot wrapping about her ankle, and released
the elbow. His body keeping the elbow pinned in place, he used his free
hand to wrench Chloe's knife away. Then he used the girl's twisted arm
to push her away. His ankle caused her to go to the ground and he
stepped back cautiously. The knife slipped into one of his pockets.
Ranma grinned. He knew what was next. Now that he'd beat Chloe she'd
have to feed him, just like with Ukyou. It would truly be a wonderful
thing to have a wider range of food substances. Essence of no-grape.
Except that Chloe didn't get up.
Chloe lied on her side, collapsed to the ground with her left arm tucked
protectively inside her cloak. Red-purple hair covered the upper half
of her face and Ranma couldn't see her expression at all. She was
shaking slightly.
Ranma's mouth did a one-eighty. Was she crying? She was, wasn't she?
Man, there was a reason he didn't like playing with girls; they played
along with the fun games until they lost and then they got all weepy, or
they clung to you with demands to play house or doctor or some silly
crap like that. With Chloe being such a tomboy he'd thought she would
be as fun as Ukyou had been, but if she was gonna get like this over a
twisted arm...
"Hey, quit that!" he demanded.
Chloe's only response was to pull her cloak tighter around herself,
defensively. She turned her face away from him, pointing it towards the
stone beneath. The rock fragments were probably digging into her cheek,
but she didn't show it. Or if she did, Ranma couldn't tell.
"Quit it!" he said again. He hated it when girls pulled this.
Ranma picked up a few small rocks and bounced them off of Chloe's hair.
One of her hands snatched the edge of the cloak and yanked it up as
protection, wrapping it over her head. The red-purple fluff disappeared
under a dark, solid green. The bottom of the cloak pulled up some to
expose her feet and lower legs.
Grinning again, he leaned forward to poke her behind the knee, then
yanked himself backwards just in time to avoid Chloe's swiping at him
with another knife as her left arm came slicing out from behind the
cloak. When she missed Chloe pushed herself off the ground with her
right arm, springing forward to try to stab at him again with the left.
Ranma twisted frantically and knocked her arm to his right, giving Chloe
who was smiling fiercely the opportunity to turn with the force and
bring in her other hand, which also had a knife now. She was still
moving forward and that gave her enough speed that he couldn't block or
deflect the blow in time. He twisted and the knife thrust most of its
length into his left arm.
"Ow! That HURT!" he yelled at her. Chloe tried to pull the knife back
so he let her, then grabbed her wrist with his left hand before she
could stab him again. His arm was weak and he could feel blood running
down it, but he yanked on her wrist, bringing her right up against him
before she could try anything with the other arm. He smashed his
forehead into her face and she was knocked backwards, off-balance from
trying to knee him in the groin.
His arm pleaded with him to release her wrist but Ranma ignored the
whiny bastard and kept at it. Chloe still hadn't recovered when he
punched her in the stomach. This time she wasn't ready for it and she
was pushed back, folding forwards slightly. Her face was white and she
struggled to breathe, but she still tried to bring the other knife
around to cut at him.
Ranma twisted and moved forward underneath her extended arm, yanking it
up behind her back. He could feel her chest heaving as she struggled
against him, still unable to pull in air. She stomped on one of his
feet, her heal crushing him into the stone beneath. Ranma yelled in
pain and shoved her away. The edge of her knife sliced his hand as she
pulled it to in front of her. He took a few steps back and she turned
around and did the same, glaring at him triumphantly.
Ranma looked at his hand. A long cut ran the length of his palm. It
wasn't too deep but blood was running freely from the wound, mixing with
what had already coated his arm from when she'd stabbed him just before.
Chloe's knives were very sharp and it hadn't hurt much at first, but
where his arm had been punctured he could now feel the buzzing of a
million invisible bees as they began to dig into his flesh, working
their way into him, an invasion of spreading stings and chewing insects.
He let his arm drop and the blood fell to the floor a tiny bit at a
time, the trickle slow but steady, that of the leaking milk caused by a
full baby who still sucks habitually at teat. Red paint dripped
similarly from one of Chloe's knives, gripped caressingly, reverently in
a tiny fist. The other knife was handled with disdain, scorn, and it
screamed in jealousy and a desire to prove itself. Chloe seemed willing
to give it another chance.
He curled his fist. "You cheated," Ranma accused. She had.
"Pretending to cry like that, jeez, that was low."
She smirked in response. "Anything-Goes. There are no rules, right?"
"...Yeah. Just remember that." His smile made his head feel tight.
The bees were spreading. He had a special attack he could use now. An
appropriate one. One Chloe deserved.
Ranma jumped forward to attack, his right hand coming up sharply,
releasing the knife he'd pulled out of a pocket. It was aimed correctly
and Chloe was forced to dodge, losing her stance in the hasty step to
the side. She stepped right into his other attack. His left hand flung
forward, snapping open as it jerked to a halt at the end of his reach,
and collected blood spat itself at Chloe. She barely had time to
flinch, to stop it from getting into her eyes, but it still splashed all
over her face and forehead, running down, thick red opaqueness hampering
her vision with a salty sting of not-quite-sweat.
Her hesitation cost and Ranma kept moving forward. Extended knife arm
was knocked aside and his foot slammed into the side of her left knee.
She cried out, went down. As she fell away her right arm crossed her
body, Chloe bringing the knife around to throw at his chest. He arched
his back and it flew past, then he bent forward again to punch Chloe in
the jaw, her face smacking against the stone beneath and stunning her.
Ranma grabbed the edge of Chloe's cloak and ripped it away from her. He
stumbled back when the cloth pulled out from where it was pinned under
her body. A red handprint branded the green. He clenched his fist
around the fabric to help slow the bleeding. Plus it'd stain better.
Chloe got up awkwardly, having trouble standing. The empty hand went to
her cheek and she was glaring at him again. Ranma could see her
harnesses, one on each limb, and it looked like five fit to each arm and
eight to a leg. They were empty, but Chloe still had one more knife.
Plus there were others from when she'd been throwing at him that were
scattered all over the road surface, easy to pick up. Underneath she
had clothes identical to what he was wearing; a long-sleeve white
button-up shirt and a pair of brown cotton pants. She also wore tennis
shoes, dirty white and with big laces.
She looked very angry to be without her cloak.
"Give it back!" The blood on her face turned her enraged, upset look
into something ridiculous.
"Umm... no." Ranma grinned, then wiped the wrap against his bloody arm,
turning it into a soiled, oversized rag. Chloe's fist tightened around
her last blade and he wondered if she'd try throwing it. He could block
or deflect with the cloak. "You have another one of these, don't you?
I like this one."
The girl wiped her arm across her face, her eyes. The blood streaked
over her skin but didn't go anywhere. But she didn't attack, she just
watched him angrily.
Ranma frowned, made a guess. "Catch," he said, and tossed the cloak.
The blood made it stick and fall short. Chloe stumbled when she stepped
forward to catch, the knee he'd stomped buckling under her weight. She
gave him another glare and then held open the cloak to see the
bloodstains that covered it.
"I hate you," she said quietly.
He stared at Chloe, then picked up a rock and tossed it at her. She
moved the cloth aside and the stone bounced off her injured knee. Chloe
made a small noise but continued to stare at the bloody handprints.
"...whatever. Seeya later," he said, then turned and ran down the
street before she could reply or throw her knife at him.
Blood didn't wash off. This was something she knew well. Because of
that, she was always careful to not get blood on her clothes or on
herself. The cloak wasn't hers. Chloe didn't know whose it was, but
she'd found it some years earlier. It had seemed like a nice blanket,
the dark fabric warm and soft.
Artena had been surprised at her discovery. Her smile had seemed sad,
then, and Chloe was sure she was going to be told to put the cloak back
where she'd found it. Instead, Artena told her what it was for, and
that she could use it if she was very careful. The older woman hadn't
said who had used it previously, and Chloe hadn't asked. But she
wondered.
And blood didn't wash off easy. From her first few assassinations she
knew that to be the case. Standing to close to the victim, the knife or
sometimes bullet hitting in the right (or wrong) spot, a brief spray,
and the clothes had to be scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed. They
wouldn't come clean. Artena just threw the clothes out once they got
blood on them.
Chloe tucked the cloak under her arm and then slowly limped around the
street, picking up and harnessing her knives. It took only a few
minutes, then she hobbled to the nearest side street and turned towards
the hot springs. Maybe if the blood didn't have enough time to dry, she
could clean it off. The water was hot and she could scrub it out.
Maybe.
Her knee was badly sprained and each step drilled a thick steel pin
home. The pant leg surrounding it seemed tight, tighter than it should
be, and she was sure that her pants weren't getting smaller. The other
knee still had plenty of room. She stepped carefully but sometimes her
haste turned the pin into heavy pick chopping away at pain barriers.
Her cheek throbbed, too, but that was a lesser pain, more easily
ignored. It didn't fluctuate, it was just a steady hum along her
nerves. Except when she clenched her teeth those times when her knee
got hit by a sledgehammer. Then it did hurt, but not as much.
It took her a half hour to reach the hot springs. The blood felt dry.
The color was darkened and drying out to an almost-brown. Her own
clothes she would have deemed trash. Not this, though.
There were several small springs, the water bubbling up in different
areas. Only the biggest one, the one with the lowest temperature, had
steps leading down into it. One of the others was almost hot enough to
boil. The earth surrounding it was of a similar temperature. Chloe
could feel the heat seeping through her shoes and knew she wouldn't be
able to stay here long.
Crouching was hell. Each thump of the fuel lines contracting was a
crushing blow designed to torment. She almost wished for her leg to
fall off so that her knee would stop hurting. But if it did she
wouldn't be able to keep her balance when doing this, so she suffered
willingly. She would clean the cloak.
She carefully dipped the garment into the water. When she pulled it
back out it steamed. Red dripped down from where it was heaviest,
spreading in a diluted red dye throughout the rest of the material. She
laid the cloak out on top of the ground and tried scrubbing at the blood
with a flat rock. It'd work the clotted, thick mess free yet wasn't
rough-edged enough to cause tears or permanent stretching. She hoped.
She started where the blood was like a printed plastic design on a
shirt; heavy and stiffening, making the cloth feel cheap and
uncomfortable. The crust softened slightly, turned more reddish and
runny, the absorbed water a thin spongy sheet that collected the dry
excess as it was rubbed free.
Chloe moved on to each bit of the stain, burning her hands on the cloak
and ground whenever they slipped from the rock, ignoring her sawed-off
knee's protests as she rocked back and forth, pushing the rock as best
she could. Soon the scrubbed areas were so littered with bits of
congealed blood that she couldn't tell what was still stuck to the
cloak. So she picked it up and leaned forward painfully to dip the
reddish-green thing into the water again, holding one edge carefully as
she shook the cloak back and forth. Dirty crimson specks swam free like
ship-jumpers escaping the sinking Titanic.
When she pulled the cloak free the remaining stains looked almost like
they'd been there forever. The affected areas just had a little blood
dried into them, nothing she could pull off with her fingernails or
separate from the actual cloth. But the discoloring was easy to see.
A few hours later she started back for the Manor. The cloak was heavy
and dripped, the water she hadn't been able to wring out escaping
slowly. It was hot, too, where she carried it draped over one shoulder,
and the moisture seeped into her shirt where they touched.
The blood hadn't come out, and now appeared baked into the threads.
Her walk was slow. The injured knee was worse and she could barely take
a step without wanting to cry. If she thought she could make it far
enough she would try hopping on the other leg, but even holding her
damaged one up was very painful. Chloe wished she could just lie down
and wait for Artena to come and carry her back to the Manor, but why
would Artena bother?
So she took one excruciating step after another, trying not to think
about what Artena's reaction to the ruining of the cloak Chloe had been
lent would be.
It took her almost two hours to walk back to the Manor. Usually it was
a quick but relaxed forty minutes. Today it was the march from hell.
The sun was low and it was about time for dinner when Chloe arrived.
She didn't know if she'd be able to eat anything. Her stomach felt
empty, butterflies need room for high-speed maneuvers, but she didn't
think holding it down would be easy. She kept picturing Artena's
disappointment at her failure to be Noir, and her failure to keep the
cloak, whoever it belonged to, from getting damaged. The tears and thin
runs of snot that dripped off her chin weren't all because of an injured
knee.
She hobbled through the doorway. The smell of food scampered about like
an energetic puppy, making Chloe feel nauseous. She slowed beyond what
he pain limits required, not sure if she really wanted to go to the
kitchen. She knew she had to, though. She couldn't hide from Artena.
She'd tried it before and it always made the woman sad. Chloe didn't
want that.
So she stepped slowly, timorously, through the threshold and into the
kitchen.
Artena was at the stove, stirring something that smelled like it would
make her taste buds explode in an orgasmic frenzy. Chloe's stomach did
flips and somersaults and all kinds of acrobatics that involved not
staying still. She stood motionless, waiting. Chloe was sure that
Artena knew she was there, knew when she had entered the Manor and
probably knew when she'd even gotten close to it. Artena was much
better than she was. So was that girl.
After a couple of minutes, Artena turned to look at her. Chloe stood
still, dirty clothes hanging limply, her skin contaminated by dust and
scrapes. She could feel the deep bruise on her cheek, and the
incriminating evidence hung heavily on her shoulder. Her knee trembled.
Artena's eyes studied her up and down, measuring, taking everything in.
No surprise was evident, the woman just stood there, taller and prettier
and better than Chloe would ever be, looking at her as though she had
expected Chloe to show up with such a bedraggled appearance. Except for
when she saw the cloak. When Artena saw the cloak her eyes widened
slightly and Chloe died. That hadn't been expected. Artena had thought
she would do better than that.
"Dinner will be ready in a few minutes," Artena said, turning back to
her preparations. "Why don't you go get changed?"
"Yes, Artena-sama," Chloe said quietly. She turned and limped off to
her room.
Easing her leg out of the pants was difficult. The knee had swelled
badly, it hadn't been her imagination that made the pants tight. Chloe
didn't want to ruin another garment, though, so she pulled the knee out
sharply. She wiped her face on the sleeve of her shirt, especially her
eyes, which were dirty, and changed out of that, as well, carefully
putting on new, clean clothes. Artena would do the laundry later,
hopefully getting out any of the simple stains that might be in the
stuff she was wearing. Chloe carried the dirties, along with the cloak,
to the room the laundry stuff was in.
After she put her clothes in the basket she hesitated, then went to the
kitchen, still with the cloak. Artena had already seen it, but...
The table was already set when she got to the dining room, and the food
was placed. Artena stood up when Chloe entered. She took the cloak
without a word, then held Chloe's chair for her and helped her scoot it
in after she'd sat. Then Artena went to her own place again and did the
same. She put the cloak on her lap.
When Artena started to eat, Chloe did the same. The silence that was
normally comfortable wasn't. Every time Chloe started to look up at
Artena she caught herself and tried to concentrate on her food. She
didn't want to see. Eventually her eyes met Artena's and she looked
away, ashamed.
"Artena-same, I-"
"Why don't you tell me what happened?" the woman interrupted, and Chloe
nodded miserably.
She told Artena of how she'd gone to the ruins to look for Ranma and
noticed him following her, then how she'd waited and attacked from
ambush and still failed. She told Artena of how she'd been beaten, how
she'd tricked Ranma and then stabbed and cut him. She told Artena of
how Ranma had just left when she'd been defeated for real. And she told
Artena of how she'd tried to clean the cloak, but that the blood
wouldn't come off.
At that, Artena stopped eating and looked down at her lap. "You tried
cleaning this in the hot springs?"
"Yes, Artena-sama," she answered.
"Stains only come out when washed in cold water," Artena said quietly.
Chloe didn't look up. Her plate was wet, but it wasn't from something
she'd been served. She didn't want to look up.
"I'm sorry, Artena-sama."