A/N: I imagine both Miyako and Ken with English accents. Ken-chan with an
English accent, ooh my. *fights off all the Ken fans*
Me: I am soo sorry about not continuing! I was so busy lately!
Ken: *tsks* Excuses, excuses.
Me: *glares* You know, if you weren't so cute and smart, I would hit you.
Miyako: Hey! Lay off my man!
Me: *rolls eyes* Watch it, I am the author after all. (Dun dun dun!)
Miyako: *eyes widen, then narrow*
Me: *laugh* Calm down! I know he's taken but that doesn't mean I'm not going to occasionally take advantage of glomping him! *glomps Ken*
Ken: Help me!
Miyako: *drags me off* Hey! Glomping privileges are mine!
Daisuke: Catfight!
Miyako + Me: Shut up!
Daisuke: *cringes*
Me: Muses, honestly. Read on!
Miyako darted through the water like an otter, coming up for air and flinging back her long lavender hair. Ken laughed from his spot on the beach.
"Intending on drowning ourselves, are we?" he asked.
"No," she said haughtily before diving back into the cool water.
~*~
"I can't control her actions," Taichi said through gritted teeth. "She does what she likes and currently I granted her a vacation."
He growled back when a faint hiss answered him. "What do you want with her then?" He listened then snarled, "Bastard."
His head whipped to the side as something punched him, cutting his cheek. Spitting out blood, he glared murderously into the darkness.
~*~
"I don't like this," Ken warned as Miyako folded a shirt, setting it in her bag.
"I don't either, love, but I have to," she answered, finishing her packing and looking at him. She took off her glasses, wiping them. "Something is not right. It's not like Taichi to call me back like that, but I have to answer." Her phone rang. "Bloody hell." She answered. "Hello? Miyako Inuoe."
Her face brightened, as she talked rapidly in Japanese. "Oh, Iori! Hello!" Then it darkened. "No, I'm returning to London with Ken tomorrow. What is wrong?" She drew in a sharp breath. "No, not now. Damn. Have you called in all the orders? That's good. Listen; give me about-" She looked at a calendar. "A week or so, is that enough?" She sighed in relief. "Alright. I'll see you then. I love you too, give everyone my regards."
She turned off the device and looked at Ken, still talking in Japanese. "The time is coming."
He stiffened. "No."
"Yes," she said. "We're leaving tonight."
~*~
Ken leaned back in his chair upon the plane. Miyako no longer wore her usual Chinese outfit, choosing street clothing tailored to allow free movement.
He flipped through a magazine, not quite focusing on it. "So it is happening."
"Yes," his wife answered, writing something in a notebook.
"My understanding of the story is somewhat vague, could you refresh my memory?"
"It's a long tale," she told him, looking at him. She had switched to contacts, preferring them from time to time.
"We have a long flight," he smiled at her ironically.
"Alright then." She stopped what she was doing and cleared her throat, finding a comfortable position in her seat. "Many years ago."
"There was a high Council of all the elements who guarded the world. They used to be ordinary mortals, like you or me, but were changed, their lives dedicated to maintaining the world's balance. It became too much for them and they sealed the world's protections into various places in time and all over the world.
She paused to sip some mineral water. Her voice was serious as she told the story almost musically.
"Their time was nearly up, as the flame flickers in an oil lamp almost out of fuel. They sealed all their powers into a gem. It was about the size of my palm and cut simply with few facets to enhance it. Held to sunlight, it held all the colors of fire, air, and light, put under moonlight or left in dim light, it glittered with the colors of water, shadows, and earth.
"But one of the elements, the guardian of darkness coveted it, to become master of the world and over his fellow elements. So he tried to steal it. The element of time foresaw his ambition and warned the others. In front of the stray element, they shattered the gem into seven separate stones.
"Now the world's protections, as I mentioned earlier, are many and scattered, throughout time and space. If they were destroyed, the earth would be defenseless, and would soon be destroyed as well. With the last of their powers, the elements destroyed the element of darkness, scattering his powers to the four winds, and hid the stones to seven far corners of the earth.
"Now, the elements of time, light, life, and death were the leaders of the Council, all having the most powerful powers, though they were all great. They predicted that there would come a time when evil would try to find the stones to resurrect the gem. But that must never happen. There would be an organization to stop them, to destroy the stones completely so that they would never be used again.
"There used to be one large, but they broke into different factions in order to better go around the globe. They agreed that when the time came however, that they would gather together again. Their headquarters are in Japan, where many of the world's protections dwell." She finished her story, taking a careful sip of her drink.
"And now just has to be the time," Ken muttered. "Why do you think Taichi wants you anyways?"
"I'm going to kill him once I get to HQ," Miyako swore. "You just watch me."
~*~
"Shit." Miyako kicked aside a bucket. "Since when has anyone been down here?" She pulled out a small flashlight, carefully letting its beam illuminate the shapes of the various objects in the basement.
"Taichi!" Taichi was there, head bowed and his wrists cuffed to a post. A trickle of blood trailed down from his lips as he looked up and at her.
He whispered hoarsely, "Get out of here! You don't know what you're getting into."
Something moved in the darkness, a soft growl. Miyako pulled out her revolver, ready to shoot if necessary.
"Just get out of here!" her boss ordered. "And that's an order, Inuoe!"
"I'm getting you out of here, boss," she said firmly, aiming at the darkness with her .45.
"You damn bitch!" he shouted. "Just get out, lock the door and turn on all the lights!" His brown eyes, wracked with pain and anger, looked at her, almost pleadingly.
Turning away, she ran up the stairs, shouting back over her shoulder, "I'll be back for you, Taichi, I promise you that!"
Then she slammed the door, bracing it and turning on the lights. She started to run, skidding to a stop at her office and snatching up a briefcase. Hastily, she started to fill it with documents and other things that she felt she would need. She then picked up a picture of her father, and slipped it in.
Running as if the demons of hell were after her, she ran out the building, tears running down her face. Ken was waiting and she nearly ran into him.
"Miyako! What happened?" he asked, seeing her face and her briefcase. His eyes were concerned and worried.
"Just get into the car, I'll explain when we get home." She managed to control herself, locking her gun and putting it in her pocket.
~*~
"And that's what I saw," she finished, accepting the strong cup of tea that Ken handed her. It had started to rain, thunder booming in the distance. She shuddered, settling on the couch in Ken's apartment, which was only a temporary place for him to stay at on business trips.
"That is not good," her husband said worriedly, sitting down with his own drink.
"I know." She looked into the half empty cup, the amber liquid sloshing from side to side in the white porcelain. "We have to find out what happened."
"The London underground," Ken said, setting down his cup of tea on the table. He then got up and embraced her. "I promise we'll fix things, Miyako. On my word."
She sank into his embrace. One of the things she loved about Ken was that he always made her feel safe, just being in his arms, and the fact that he knew when to go from loving husband, stern partner, devoted friend, to kind advisor at the right moment. He kissed her forehead lightly.
~*~
Ken looked up at the ceiling; his long sleeved pajama shirt half open. Miyako was next to him, meditating on her own thoughts as well. He smiled at her before resuming his brooding.
What had exactly gotten Taichi? Ken knew that the man was no weakling in the arts of fighting, so it must have taken something formidable to restrain and capture him. And what about the other agents?
Did it have something to do with the prophecy? He sighed and turned over, eyes closing as he forced himself to rest and soon started to dream...
***
"Sir, the mistress awaits," the small cat like creature bows. "She requests your presence."
I find myself answering in a cool, gentle voice, "Thank you. Tell her that I will come, Ghile."
The creature bows again and flits off. I rise from the bed I was lounging on, going over to a wardrobe and opening its magnificently carved doors.
"Now, what shall I wear today?" The array of clothing is admirable, in different styles and hues, the colors mostly dark, black and midnight blue, but with the occasional gray, silver, or muted white. A stray thought goes through my mind, How about this one? I know she likes to see me in this.
My hands, slightly more fine boned than before, select one, pulling it out of the wardrobe. It consists of a fine robe and long pants of smooth black silk, the robe embroidered in intricate designs with silver thread and tiny, twinkling white diamonds, as to make it look like the night sky. The hands that are not quite mine also pull out a shirt of gray linen, a design of entwining knots and braids embroidered upon the high-necked collar and close fitting cuffs.
I dress with relative quickness, changing out of the nightshirt I had been wearing. Once done, I am able to see the room. It is elegantly furnished with black and white marble, dark wood furniture, soft carpets and curtains of dark fabrics trimmed in silver. A magnificent mural is painted above me on the ceiling, looking just like the night sky, complete with stars and crescent moon. But wait a minute; did a shooting star just go across the sky?
Adjusting the robe, which is left open and ends just slightly above my boot- shod feet, I go over to a bureau, a mirror above it. Picking up a silver comb, I start to comb my hair. I catch sight of the body I happen to inhabit.
I look exactly like myself, perhaps a little older, a little sterner. My skin is paler, a delicate ivory and my eyes seem darker than before, almost black, instead of indigo. Instead of shoulder length, my hair is cropped shorter, the same blue-black. Opening a carved ebony box, I pull out a slim bracelet of silver and black moonstones around a wrist and clasp a necklace with a black opal set on the pendant dangling from the silver chain around my neck.
I murmur softly, but not of my own will, "I hope she is not angered with me."
Then I open the door leading into the chamber and go out through hallways of white marble, lamps illuminating them and fine carpets upon the ground. My feet lead me down a staircase, past some doors, and through another hallway. The sole door at the end is ajar and the perfume of flowers comes from it. I open it slowly, tentatively.
It is a wondrous place, the roof filled with skylights, letting in both air and light. Plants flourish everywhere, water trickles into a beautiful pond, another fall echoing it as liquid falls into a pond nearby the other one, faint steam rising from the water. Sitting on a bench in front of one of the two waterfalls, is a woman.
Her hair is let down, colored lavender and entwined with white flowers. While my clothing is reminiscent of medieval garb and something out of a fantasy book/ roleplaying game, hers is very similar to an Indian sari, colored white and shot through with silver.
"So you came." Her voice is quiet and very familiar, though very melodious and almost ethereal.
"Yes." I approach her.
She sighs heavily, as if weary of something. "We are growing old, we cannot survive for much longer."
I walk slowly. "And naturally you would know, as well as Cronos."
"You should know as well," she chuckles. "Please, come sit."
I sit by her, and surprisingly, the woman resembles Miyako. "We all balance each other." I take her hand. "Remember, I always love you, and will watch over you."
"Death cannot exist without Life, and Life cannot exist without Death," she says softly.
"As can neither of any of the elements. Time is the only one without a partner, but then again, we all balance him." I bend over and kiss her softly.
"I don't know about Light and Dark though," she sighs. "Dark has been ignoring her of late and she comes to me and frets."
"It will be alright," I assure her. "It will. I will talk to Dark; he is my brother after all."
"Half," she reminds me absently, raising her hand for a dove to land on.
"Well that is pretty close," I grin at her and she smiles sadly at me.
Letting the bird fly away, she stands. "I am sorry if I bothered you."
"No, I was merely meditating on my thoughts." I lightly kiss her cheek, a chaste expression of affection.
She chuckles. "You are such a flirt." I smell sweet jasmine and lilies coming from her as she laughs.
***
Ken sat up in bed, shaking back his hair. Miyako poked her head in.
"Did you sleep well?"
"Just fine dear," he yawned, sliding out of bed. He sniffed the air, smelling toast and coffee. "Decided to cook breakfast?"
She nodded, closing the door behind her. "Get dressed, we're going out today."
He sighed and pulled on comfortable, yet somewhat formal clothing clothing. Knowing his wife, going out meant that he would be doing a lot of running or fighting, or both.
"So where are we headed to?" Ken asked, turning at an intersection.
"What? Oh, British Museum of History," Miyako answered.
"Still worried about Taichi?" Ken said kindly and she nodded, sighing.
It was still raining and she moodily looked out the window at the water splashing on the windshield and window. "I don't know what's going on but it's not right."
"I know, lover, I know."
*
Ken looked at a silk-screen painting from Japan during the Edo period as Miyako disappeared off somewhere. His eyes fell upon the display of a katana in a glass case as he wandered about.
She returned quickly with a manila folder as he was starting a second round of the section dedicated to Asian history. "Well, we better be off."
In the car, she sorted through the papers inside, fishing one out.
"What's that about?" Ken asked.
"Research on the gem. I have a contact in the museum and he was kind enough to give me copies of the original documents."
Ken snickered at the sound of her self-satisfied tone. "What did you threaten to do to him?"
"Nothing much," she said innocently, sliding the papers back. "Could you get us to Whitechapel?" ((That is an actual place in London, but I'm changing it a little to suit the story))
*
"I hate this part of London," Ken muttered, parking his car in a hidden alley some distance away from one of the seediest places in London.
"So do I," Miyako said from the back, where she had been changing her clothes.
When she came out, she was wearing black leather, consisting tight trousers and loose leather jacket over a clinging camisole of lilac silk. She grimaced at his stare, which soon turned into a questioning glare.
"Why are you wearing that?" her husband demanded.
"Relax, I'll change later." She strapped on her boots more securely and pulled out a duffel bag. "I'm going to talk to a friend of mine, then change."
"And does your friend run some kind of brothel?" An odd twitch was at the corner of his eye, as it happened when he was agitated.
"No, he runs a club. I'm getting some info on what happened at HQ and getting out of there as fast as I can." She pulled out twin .45s from her bag, strapping them onto her legs, the jacket, which was more of a coat, covering the weapons. Pulling one out, she loaded in the ammunition magazine.
"Rule one of being in a place this: Don't make eye contact with any scantily clad woman unless you want them to fuck you or if you want to incur my wrath. Rule two." She slipped the weapon into the holster.
"Don't drink anything at the bar that I don't drink as well. Rule three, make yourself intimidating, show that I am your woman and you're not afraid to defend me. Rule four, try to relax while in there." She smiled as she slipped on sunglasses.
"Yeah, as if that's bloody likely," Ken muttered as he followed her. Miyako eluded the bouncer at the door of a club, loud music coming from it.
Making her way to the bar, she yelled at him, "So, is this the first time you've been to a club in Whitechapel?"
"Actually, no," he shouted back over the music. She had a word with the tender and the man nodded, disappearing off someplace.
He appeared later and pointed to a staircase some distance off. The woman thanked him and pulled Ken over to the staircase, her duffel bag over one shoulder.
Ken shuddered slightly, passing two scantily clad girls dancing around a pole. I hope Miyako makes this quick, he thought, following her as she climbed up the stairs. At the top, she tapped at the door there lightly in a series of certain taps, as if using a code.
It opened and she pulled Ken inside, slamming the door shut inside. Rather oddly, the room was very elegant, classical music playing softly, a sharp contrast to dimly lit, somewhat grungy club with roaring music outside.
A young man was sitting at a desk, another sitting on top. "I was expecting you," he said quietly, pushing back his dark hair. "Out, I need to talk with them." The one sitting on the desk walked off through another door.
"Ah, Agent Inuoe, such a pleasure to see you again," he smiled at her, and Ken scowled inwardly.
"Enough of the sweet talk," Miyako said shortly. "You know what I want."
"For everything there is a price, my dear," he said, his hands open.
"I know that very well," she growled. "The information first."
"Alright, alright," he sighed and asked, "So what information do you need from the Underground?"
"I went to Interpol and my boss was tied up in the basement. What is going on?"
The man looked about and said softly, "I haven't heard of that, I promise you. But word has it that there's a new gang about. I don't know about this. My contacts around Interpol headquarters report nothing, business is as usual. Except for one thing. Yagami's sister was kidnapped."
"What?" Her eyes widened. "No, Hikari."
"He was frantic about her but then he sort of gave up. And that's odd because anyone who knows enough about Yagami would know that his sister, practically the only family he has, is the most precious thing to him in the world and I wouldn't envy that unfortunate bastard who harms a hair on her head."
"Well, anything else?" she demanded.
He gave her a business card. "Go to him. If you want information, he has it, but he doesn't come cheap."
Miyako examined the card. "I've heard of him. Desperate times call for desperate measures apparently. But I got a thing or two that will be suitable payment."
"Good doing business with you," the man said, smiling. He then saw the muzzle of a .45 at his head.
"If you dare to spill what was just said in this room," the agent hissed. "I will come after you and castrate you, that's a promise."
*
Ken looked at her as they exited the club. "So do you always do that to your information sources?"
"No, the ones who really piss me off, I don't threaten. I carry out," she answered. Earlier she had changed from the black leather to jeans and a shirt, the holsters to her guns still around her legs.
He looked at her as she walked along the street. "You need to control your temper."
"And this is coming from the man who beat the bloody hell out of Pied with no mercy? Ha, talk about a pot calling a kettle black."
She turned, going into an alley. Suddenly she stopped, crossing her arms. "Alright boys, it's never nice to sneak up on a lady."
"You sure you're a lady, slut?" a man jeered, coming out of darkness, seven others surrounding them.
"My, my, my," Miyako said. "So more join the party?" In Japanese, she told Ken, a hint of ironic humor in her voice, "So, you think you're still fit?"
"You bet I am," her husband answered, smiling grimly.
Then the gang attacked. Miyako narrowed her amber eyes and moved. Her face was impassive as she dealt with two immediately. Coolly, she fought on, the moves second nature to her. Ken was doing well by her, easily dispatching his own opponents.
She seized the leader and said softly, "Never call me slut, bastard." Then she punched him across the face.
"Very good job," Ken approved, and then he tensed.
An oily looking man came toward them. "You have such good fighting skills. Tell me, for a good price, would you be willing to demonstrate them?"
"Street fighting, eh?" Miyako said, hands on her hips, looking at Ken and switched her language to Japanese. "Should we do it? The card doesn't mention much."
"I'm not quite sure, but it really is up to you. Try not to get us killed, please."
She chuckled and faced the man, returning to English. "We'll do it."
He nodded, rubbing his hands. "The rules are that you two can either fight one on one against others or fight as a team against multiple opponents. You win three fights, you get cash."
"Team then," Miyako said, looking at Ken and he nodded, slightly.
"Follow me." The man turned, starting to walk off. Trading looks, both husband and wife followed.
~*~
"Bloody hell I don't know why I agreed to this," Ken muttered.
He wiped off sweat from his brow. Their third match was about to begin. The fights took place in an abandoned warehouse. A ring was established in the center and spectators roared in anticipation, surrounding the area. Bets were being made left and right. Miyako adjusted her gloves, looking at him.
"You alright, love?"
"I'll be fine," he said through gritted teeth.
The ring of a bell marked the start of their third and hopefully last fight. They stood up, entering the ring. Four strongly built men awaited them. No weapons were allowed in the ring and any form of martial arts was acceptable. All the opponents must be either K.O.-ed or knocked out of the ring in order for the remaining team to win.
"Begin!" a referee roared.
Miyako nodded to Ken. "Time to party!"
As one lunged for her, ready to punch, she dodged him, grabbing his fist, and jerking him forward, using his momentum against him. Twisting behind, she leapt up and kicked him out of the marked area.
Ken was doing admirably, dodging well. Miyako taunted one away so to give him some breathing space. He crouched, kicking their feet out from under them. Apparently in most street fights strength was an attribute that was most valued. Flipping back, he smiled coldly. It was all child's play to him and Miyako. Their competitors were all strongly built brutes who preferred the "haymaker" style of fighting, no finesse whatsoever. He was careful not to get cocky however as he ducked behind them both and jumping, kicked them out. Ha, opponents his foot. Daisuke was more a challenge any day.
Miyako joined him, already having knocked out her opponent. The referee raised their arms, declaring them the winner. Grudgingly, the oily man thrust two envelopes at them. Grimacing, the Chinese fighter glared, wiping her hands off as she put the envelope in her pocket.
"I hope you liked that," Ken told her.
"Hey bitch!" a voice called and the crowd went quiet.
"Yeah, you," the voice said as Miyako turned at the sound, eyes narrowed. "Think you're so tough, right? Try to take me on for size then."
The crowd parted as a young, lean man came forward, smirking at her. He was wearing a long, black trench coat, left open to reveal a bare, muscular chest and leather pants. His hair, dyed blue, was spiked as dark eyes looked at Miyako. He smirked at her.
"And who would you be?" she asked.
"Jenrya," he bowed mockingly. "One on one then slut? Or do you need to have your man do your fighting for you?
Ken growled softly, starting, but his wife put a warning hand on his shoulder. If it was one thing that could get past his cool exterior, it was anyone insulting his wife.
"Alright then," she said and her voice was cool and very calm, but Ken knew that she was angry. "He's staying out of this." She shot him a look, and Ken saw her signal to stay out. The look in her eyes was more than enough however.
The opponent flipped into the ring, and Miyako moved into a fighting stance. He mirrored her position and mocked, "Are you ready?"
She smiled, and Ken, despite himself, felt a shiver run down his back. That was her bloodthirsty smile and so unlike her normal gentle one. He had seen his wife angry and had wisely stayed out of the way.
Like a panther, the other man moved suddenly, and the battle began. Both were evenly matched apparently, but Ken knew perfectly well that his wife was holding herself back in some of the kicks and punches, few of which could easily kill Jenrya with proper application.
Miyako remained silent as she fought on. He was good, but she had better training. With someone like her grandfather as a trainer, anyone would become an excellent fighter, just to keep him in a good mood. Boring, she thought. I think Iori can teach this cocky bastard a lesson while drinking his morning tea.
She saw an opening and smiled sardonically, the only sign of emotion on her face. Using a combination that the priest had taught her a few years before, she bowled him over. Kneeling on his back and holding his arms still, she asked, not even breathing hard, "Yield?"
He nodded but when she relaxed her grip just a little, he broke free and aimed a punch at her. Amber eyes flashed angrily as she grasped his fist and twisted. She snarled, "Don't. Ever. Cheat. You. Bastard." Then there was the sound of snapping bone and a strangled cry of pain from the blue haired man.
She had broken his arm cleanly and the audience gaped. Releasing his hand, she looked at him in disgust. Ken came over to her, putting an arm over her shoulder. She looked weary, as she did when she ever did something like this in a fight.
"I don't fight my wife's battles," he said to Jenrya quietly. "She fights them herself. But if you ever insult her again." He held the other man's uninjured shoulder in a tight grip. "I will break your other arm."
"Wait, my business isn't done with you," Miyako said quietly, eying the blue haired man. "You are coming with us." In disgust and resignation, the man allowed himself to be led away.
~*~
"And that's all I know," Jenrya said quietly, as Ken finished treating the broken bone. He took a sip of coffee in silence.
"So much for the informant," Miyako rubbed her temples. "Listen, I'm really sorry about that."
He dismissed it gloomily. "I've broken this arm plenty of times, another time doesn't matter. Besides, I should consider myself chided. At least you didn't kill me, you had every right to."
"I would've but I didn't, and that's it." She stirred her tea.
Ken sighed. "We don't have much to go on. Maybe there are connections here."
She shot him a look. "We'll discuss that later."
"Why do you want to know?" Jenrya asked, setting his mug down. He seemed at ease in Ken's fancy apartment, surprisingly.
"I have a few contacts in Interpol," Miyako said, not quite lying but not quite telling the truth either.
"Ah. But that's all I know, the streets have been buzzing about it." He sighed and rose silently. "Listen, I'll be missed, I better go."
"By whom?" Ken asked, indigo eyes looking right at him.
The blue haired man smiled wanly. "By people, some of whom I would not like to face with a broken arm, and a few who need me."
"At least let me compensate," Miyako said, reaching for her wallet, but he shook his head.
"I get by. I'll hitch a ride with a taxi or just make it home through walking. Thank you." He went out the door.
Ken was silent until he said quietly, "Can we trust him?"
Miyako was thoughtful. "That I don't know. But we have no choice. Pack up, we leave for Japan tomorrow."
Me: I am soo sorry about not continuing! I was so busy lately!
Ken: *tsks* Excuses, excuses.
Me: *glares* You know, if you weren't so cute and smart, I would hit you.
Miyako: Hey! Lay off my man!
Me: *rolls eyes* Watch it, I am the author after all. (Dun dun dun!)
Miyako: *eyes widen, then narrow*
Me: *laugh* Calm down! I know he's taken but that doesn't mean I'm not going to occasionally take advantage of glomping him! *glomps Ken*
Ken: Help me!
Miyako: *drags me off* Hey! Glomping privileges are mine!
Daisuke: Catfight!
Miyako + Me: Shut up!
Daisuke: *cringes*
Me: Muses, honestly. Read on!
Miyako darted through the water like an otter, coming up for air and flinging back her long lavender hair. Ken laughed from his spot on the beach.
"Intending on drowning ourselves, are we?" he asked.
"No," she said haughtily before diving back into the cool water.
~*~
"I can't control her actions," Taichi said through gritted teeth. "She does what she likes and currently I granted her a vacation."
He growled back when a faint hiss answered him. "What do you want with her then?" He listened then snarled, "Bastard."
His head whipped to the side as something punched him, cutting his cheek. Spitting out blood, he glared murderously into the darkness.
~*~
"I don't like this," Ken warned as Miyako folded a shirt, setting it in her bag.
"I don't either, love, but I have to," she answered, finishing her packing and looking at him. She took off her glasses, wiping them. "Something is not right. It's not like Taichi to call me back like that, but I have to answer." Her phone rang. "Bloody hell." She answered. "Hello? Miyako Inuoe."
Her face brightened, as she talked rapidly in Japanese. "Oh, Iori! Hello!" Then it darkened. "No, I'm returning to London with Ken tomorrow. What is wrong?" She drew in a sharp breath. "No, not now. Damn. Have you called in all the orders? That's good. Listen; give me about-" She looked at a calendar. "A week or so, is that enough?" She sighed in relief. "Alright. I'll see you then. I love you too, give everyone my regards."
She turned off the device and looked at Ken, still talking in Japanese. "The time is coming."
He stiffened. "No."
"Yes," she said. "We're leaving tonight."
~*~
Ken leaned back in his chair upon the plane. Miyako no longer wore her usual Chinese outfit, choosing street clothing tailored to allow free movement.
He flipped through a magazine, not quite focusing on it. "So it is happening."
"Yes," his wife answered, writing something in a notebook.
"My understanding of the story is somewhat vague, could you refresh my memory?"
"It's a long tale," she told him, looking at him. She had switched to contacts, preferring them from time to time.
"We have a long flight," he smiled at her ironically.
"Alright then." She stopped what she was doing and cleared her throat, finding a comfortable position in her seat. "Many years ago."
"There was a high Council of all the elements who guarded the world. They used to be ordinary mortals, like you or me, but were changed, their lives dedicated to maintaining the world's balance. It became too much for them and they sealed the world's protections into various places in time and all over the world.
She paused to sip some mineral water. Her voice was serious as she told the story almost musically.
"Their time was nearly up, as the flame flickers in an oil lamp almost out of fuel. They sealed all their powers into a gem. It was about the size of my palm and cut simply with few facets to enhance it. Held to sunlight, it held all the colors of fire, air, and light, put under moonlight or left in dim light, it glittered with the colors of water, shadows, and earth.
"But one of the elements, the guardian of darkness coveted it, to become master of the world and over his fellow elements. So he tried to steal it. The element of time foresaw his ambition and warned the others. In front of the stray element, they shattered the gem into seven separate stones.
"Now the world's protections, as I mentioned earlier, are many and scattered, throughout time and space. If they were destroyed, the earth would be defenseless, and would soon be destroyed as well. With the last of their powers, the elements destroyed the element of darkness, scattering his powers to the four winds, and hid the stones to seven far corners of the earth.
"Now, the elements of time, light, life, and death were the leaders of the Council, all having the most powerful powers, though they were all great. They predicted that there would come a time when evil would try to find the stones to resurrect the gem. But that must never happen. There would be an organization to stop them, to destroy the stones completely so that they would never be used again.
"There used to be one large, but they broke into different factions in order to better go around the globe. They agreed that when the time came however, that they would gather together again. Their headquarters are in Japan, where many of the world's protections dwell." She finished her story, taking a careful sip of her drink.
"And now just has to be the time," Ken muttered. "Why do you think Taichi wants you anyways?"
"I'm going to kill him once I get to HQ," Miyako swore. "You just watch me."
~*~
"Shit." Miyako kicked aside a bucket. "Since when has anyone been down here?" She pulled out a small flashlight, carefully letting its beam illuminate the shapes of the various objects in the basement.
"Taichi!" Taichi was there, head bowed and his wrists cuffed to a post. A trickle of blood trailed down from his lips as he looked up and at her.
He whispered hoarsely, "Get out of here! You don't know what you're getting into."
Something moved in the darkness, a soft growl. Miyako pulled out her revolver, ready to shoot if necessary.
"Just get out of here!" her boss ordered. "And that's an order, Inuoe!"
"I'm getting you out of here, boss," she said firmly, aiming at the darkness with her .45.
"You damn bitch!" he shouted. "Just get out, lock the door and turn on all the lights!" His brown eyes, wracked with pain and anger, looked at her, almost pleadingly.
Turning away, she ran up the stairs, shouting back over her shoulder, "I'll be back for you, Taichi, I promise you that!"
Then she slammed the door, bracing it and turning on the lights. She started to run, skidding to a stop at her office and snatching up a briefcase. Hastily, she started to fill it with documents and other things that she felt she would need. She then picked up a picture of her father, and slipped it in.
Running as if the demons of hell were after her, she ran out the building, tears running down her face. Ken was waiting and she nearly ran into him.
"Miyako! What happened?" he asked, seeing her face and her briefcase. His eyes were concerned and worried.
"Just get into the car, I'll explain when we get home." She managed to control herself, locking her gun and putting it in her pocket.
~*~
"And that's what I saw," she finished, accepting the strong cup of tea that Ken handed her. It had started to rain, thunder booming in the distance. She shuddered, settling on the couch in Ken's apartment, which was only a temporary place for him to stay at on business trips.
"That is not good," her husband said worriedly, sitting down with his own drink.
"I know." She looked into the half empty cup, the amber liquid sloshing from side to side in the white porcelain. "We have to find out what happened."
"The London underground," Ken said, setting down his cup of tea on the table. He then got up and embraced her. "I promise we'll fix things, Miyako. On my word."
She sank into his embrace. One of the things she loved about Ken was that he always made her feel safe, just being in his arms, and the fact that he knew when to go from loving husband, stern partner, devoted friend, to kind advisor at the right moment. He kissed her forehead lightly.
~*~
Ken looked up at the ceiling; his long sleeved pajama shirt half open. Miyako was next to him, meditating on her own thoughts as well. He smiled at her before resuming his brooding.
What had exactly gotten Taichi? Ken knew that the man was no weakling in the arts of fighting, so it must have taken something formidable to restrain and capture him. And what about the other agents?
Did it have something to do with the prophecy? He sighed and turned over, eyes closing as he forced himself to rest and soon started to dream...
***
"Sir, the mistress awaits," the small cat like creature bows. "She requests your presence."
I find myself answering in a cool, gentle voice, "Thank you. Tell her that I will come, Ghile."
The creature bows again and flits off. I rise from the bed I was lounging on, going over to a wardrobe and opening its magnificently carved doors.
"Now, what shall I wear today?" The array of clothing is admirable, in different styles and hues, the colors mostly dark, black and midnight blue, but with the occasional gray, silver, or muted white. A stray thought goes through my mind, How about this one? I know she likes to see me in this.
My hands, slightly more fine boned than before, select one, pulling it out of the wardrobe. It consists of a fine robe and long pants of smooth black silk, the robe embroidered in intricate designs with silver thread and tiny, twinkling white diamonds, as to make it look like the night sky. The hands that are not quite mine also pull out a shirt of gray linen, a design of entwining knots and braids embroidered upon the high-necked collar and close fitting cuffs.
I dress with relative quickness, changing out of the nightshirt I had been wearing. Once done, I am able to see the room. It is elegantly furnished with black and white marble, dark wood furniture, soft carpets and curtains of dark fabrics trimmed in silver. A magnificent mural is painted above me on the ceiling, looking just like the night sky, complete with stars and crescent moon. But wait a minute; did a shooting star just go across the sky?
Adjusting the robe, which is left open and ends just slightly above my boot- shod feet, I go over to a bureau, a mirror above it. Picking up a silver comb, I start to comb my hair. I catch sight of the body I happen to inhabit.
I look exactly like myself, perhaps a little older, a little sterner. My skin is paler, a delicate ivory and my eyes seem darker than before, almost black, instead of indigo. Instead of shoulder length, my hair is cropped shorter, the same blue-black. Opening a carved ebony box, I pull out a slim bracelet of silver and black moonstones around a wrist and clasp a necklace with a black opal set on the pendant dangling from the silver chain around my neck.
I murmur softly, but not of my own will, "I hope she is not angered with me."
Then I open the door leading into the chamber and go out through hallways of white marble, lamps illuminating them and fine carpets upon the ground. My feet lead me down a staircase, past some doors, and through another hallway. The sole door at the end is ajar and the perfume of flowers comes from it. I open it slowly, tentatively.
It is a wondrous place, the roof filled with skylights, letting in both air and light. Plants flourish everywhere, water trickles into a beautiful pond, another fall echoing it as liquid falls into a pond nearby the other one, faint steam rising from the water. Sitting on a bench in front of one of the two waterfalls, is a woman.
Her hair is let down, colored lavender and entwined with white flowers. While my clothing is reminiscent of medieval garb and something out of a fantasy book/ roleplaying game, hers is very similar to an Indian sari, colored white and shot through with silver.
"So you came." Her voice is quiet and very familiar, though very melodious and almost ethereal.
"Yes." I approach her.
She sighs heavily, as if weary of something. "We are growing old, we cannot survive for much longer."
I walk slowly. "And naturally you would know, as well as Cronos."
"You should know as well," she chuckles. "Please, come sit."
I sit by her, and surprisingly, the woman resembles Miyako. "We all balance each other." I take her hand. "Remember, I always love you, and will watch over you."
"Death cannot exist without Life, and Life cannot exist without Death," she says softly.
"As can neither of any of the elements. Time is the only one without a partner, but then again, we all balance him." I bend over and kiss her softly.
"I don't know about Light and Dark though," she sighs. "Dark has been ignoring her of late and she comes to me and frets."
"It will be alright," I assure her. "It will. I will talk to Dark; he is my brother after all."
"Half," she reminds me absently, raising her hand for a dove to land on.
"Well that is pretty close," I grin at her and she smiles sadly at me.
Letting the bird fly away, she stands. "I am sorry if I bothered you."
"No, I was merely meditating on my thoughts." I lightly kiss her cheek, a chaste expression of affection.
She chuckles. "You are such a flirt." I smell sweet jasmine and lilies coming from her as she laughs.
***
Ken sat up in bed, shaking back his hair. Miyako poked her head in.
"Did you sleep well?"
"Just fine dear," he yawned, sliding out of bed. He sniffed the air, smelling toast and coffee. "Decided to cook breakfast?"
She nodded, closing the door behind her. "Get dressed, we're going out today."
He sighed and pulled on comfortable, yet somewhat formal clothing clothing. Knowing his wife, going out meant that he would be doing a lot of running or fighting, or both.
"So where are we headed to?" Ken asked, turning at an intersection.
"What? Oh, British Museum of History," Miyako answered.
"Still worried about Taichi?" Ken said kindly and she nodded, sighing.
It was still raining and she moodily looked out the window at the water splashing on the windshield and window. "I don't know what's going on but it's not right."
"I know, lover, I know."
*
Ken looked at a silk-screen painting from Japan during the Edo period as Miyako disappeared off somewhere. His eyes fell upon the display of a katana in a glass case as he wandered about.
She returned quickly with a manila folder as he was starting a second round of the section dedicated to Asian history. "Well, we better be off."
In the car, she sorted through the papers inside, fishing one out.
"What's that about?" Ken asked.
"Research on the gem. I have a contact in the museum and he was kind enough to give me copies of the original documents."
Ken snickered at the sound of her self-satisfied tone. "What did you threaten to do to him?"
"Nothing much," she said innocently, sliding the papers back. "Could you get us to Whitechapel?" ((That is an actual place in London, but I'm changing it a little to suit the story))
*
"I hate this part of London," Ken muttered, parking his car in a hidden alley some distance away from one of the seediest places in London.
"So do I," Miyako said from the back, where she had been changing her clothes.
When she came out, she was wearing black leather, consisting tight trousers and loose leather jacket over a clinging camisole of lilac silk. She grimaced at his stare, which soon turned into a questioning glare.
"Why are you wearing that?" her husband demanded.
"Relax, I'll change later." She strapped on her boots more securely and pulled out a duffel bag. "I'm going to talk to a friend of mine, then change."
"And does your friend run some kind of brothel?" An odd twitch was at the corner of his eye, as it happened when he was agitated.
"No, he runs a club. I'm getting some info on what happened at HQ and getting out of there as fast as I can." She pulled out twin .45s from her bag, strapping them onto her legs, the jacket, which was more of a coat, covering the weapons. Pulling one out, she loaded in the ammunition magazine.
"Rule one of being in a place this: Don't make eye contact with any scantily clad woman unless you want them to fuck you or if you want to incur my wrath. Rule two." She slipped the weapon into the holster.
"Don't drink anything at the bar that I don't drink as well. Rule three, make yourself intimidating, show that I am your woman and you're not afraid to defend me. Rule four, try to relax while in there." She smiled as she slipped on sunglasses.
"Yeah, as if that's bloody likely," Ken muttered as he followed her. Miyako eluded the bouncer at the door of a club, loud music coming from it.
Making her way to the bar, she yelled at him, "So, is this the first time you've been to a club in Whitechapel?"
"Actually, no," he shouted back over the music. She had a word with the tender and the man nodded, disappearing off someplace.
He appeared later and pointed to a staircase some distance off. The woman thanked him and pulled Ken over to the staircase, her duffel bag over one shoulder.
Ken shuddered slightly, passing two scantily clad girls dancing around a pole. I hope Miyako makes this quick, he thought, following her as she climbed up the stairs. At the top, she tapped at the door there lightly in a series of certain taps, as if using a code.
It opened and she pulled Ken inside, slamming the door shut inside. Rather oddly, the room was very elegant, classical music playing softly, a sharp contrast to dimly lit, somewhat grungy club with roaring music outside.
A young man was sitting at a desk, another sitting on top. "I was expecting you," he said quietly, pushing back his dark hair. "Out, I need to talk with them." The one sitting on the desk walked off through another door.
"Ah, Agent Inuoe, such a pleasure to see you again," he smiled at her, and Ken scowled inwardly.
"Enough of the sweet talk," Miyako said shortly. "You know what I want."
"For everything there is a price, my dear," he said, his hands open.
"I know that very well," she growled. "The information first."
"Alright, alright," he sighed and asked, "So what information do you need from the Underground?"
"I went to Interpol and my boss was tied up in the basement. What is going on?"
The man looked about and said softly, "I haven't heard of that, I promise you. But word has it that there's a new gang about. I don't know about this. My contacts around Interpol headquarters report nothing, business is as usual. Except for one thing. Yagami's sister was kidnapped."
"What?" Her eyes widened. "No, Hikari."
"He was frantic about her but then he sort of gave up. And that's odd because anyone who knows enough about Yagami would know that his sister, practically the only family he has, is the most precious thing to him in the world and I wouldn't envy that unfortunate bastard who harms a hair on her head."
"Well, anything else?" she demanded.
He gave her a business card. "Go to him. If you want information, he has it, but he doesn't come cheap."
Miyako examined the card. "I've heard of him. Desperate times call for desperate measures apparently. But I got a thing or two that will be suitable payment."
"Good doing business with you," the man said, smiling. He then saw the muzzle of a .45 at his head.
"If you dare to spill what was just said in this room," the agent hissed. "I will come after you and castrate you, that's a promise."
*
Ken looked at her as they exited the club. "So do you always do that to your information sources?"
"No, the ones who really piss me off, I don't threaten. I carry out," she answered. Earlier she had changed from the black leather to jeans and a shirt, the holsters to her guns still around her legs.
He looked at her as she walked along the street. "You need to control your temper."
"And this is coming from the man who beat the bloody hell out of Pied with no mercy? Ha, talk about a pot calling a kettle black."
She turned, going into an alley. Suddenly she stopped, crossing her arms. "Alright boys, it's never nice to sneak up on a lady."
"You sure you're a lady, slut?" a man jeered, coming out of darkness, seven others surrounding them.
"My, my, my," Miyako said. "So more join the party?" In Japanese, she told Ken, a hint of ironic humor in her voice, "So, you think you're still fit?"
"You bet I am," her husband answered, smiling grimly.
Then the gang attacked. Miyako narrowed her amber eyes and moved. Her face was impassive as she dealt with two immediately. Coolly, she fought on, the moves second nature to her. Ken was doing well by her, easily dispatching his own opponents.
She seized the leader and said softly, "Never call me slut, bastard." Then she punched him across the face.
"Very good job," Ken approved, and then he tensed.
An oily looking man came toward them. "You have such good fighting skills. Tell me, for a good price, would you be willing to demonstrate them?"
"Street fighting, eh?" Miyako said, hands on her hips, looking at Ken and switched her language to Japanese. "Should we do it? The card doesn't mention much."
"I'm not quite sure, but it really is up to you. Try not to get us killed, please."
She chuckled and faced the man, returning to English. "We'll do it."
He nodded, rubbing his hands. "The rules are that you two can either fight one on one against others or fight as a team against multiple opponents. You win three fights, you get cash."
"Team then," Miyako said, looking at Ken and he nodded, slightly.
"Follow me." The man turned, starting to walk off. Trading looks, both husband and wife followed.
~*~
"Bloody hell I don't know why I agreed to this," Ken muttered.
He wiped off sweat from his brow. Their third match was about to begin. The fights took place in an abandoned warehouse. A ring was established in the center and spectators roared in anticipation, surrounding the area. Bets were being made left and right. Miyako adjusted her gloves, looking at him.
"You alright, love?"
"I'll be fine," he said through gritted teeth.
The ring of a bell marked the start of their third and hopefully last fight. They stood up, entering the ring. Four strongly built men awaited them. No weapons were allowed in the ring and any form of martial arts was acceptable. All the opponents must be either K.O.-ed or knocked out of the ring in order for the remaining team to win.
"Begin!" a referee roared.
Miyako nodded to Ken. "Time to party!"
As one lunged for her, ready to punch, she dodged him, grabbing his fist, and jerking him forward, using his momentum against him. Twisting behind, she leapt up and kicked him out of the marked area.
Ken was doing admirably, dodging well. Miyako taunted one away so to give him some breathing space. He crouched, kicking their feet out from under them. Apparently in most street fights strength was an attribute that was most valued. Flipping back, he smiled coldly. It was all child's play to him and Miyako. Their competitors were all strongly built brutes who preferred the "haymaker" style of fighting, no finesse whatsoever. He was careful not to get cocky however as he ducked behind them both and jumping, kicked them out. Ha, opponents his foot. Daisuke was more a challenge any day.
Miyako joined him, already having knocked out her opponent. The referee raised their arms, declaring them the winner. Grudgingly, the oily man thrust two envelopes at them. Grimacing, the Chinese fighter glared, wiping her hands off as she put the envelope in her pocket.
"I hope you liked that," Ken told her.
"Hey bitch!" a voice called and the crowd went quiet.
"Yeah, you," the voice said as Miyako turned at the sound, eyes narrowed. "Think you're so tough, right? Try to take me on for size then."
The crowd parted as a young, lean man came forward, smirking at her. He was wearing a long, black trench coat, left open to reveal a bare, muscular chest and leather pants. His hair, dyed blue, was spiked as dark eyes looked at Miyako. He smirked at her.
"And who would you be?" she asked.
"Jenrya," he bowed mockingly. "One on one then slut? Or do you need to have your man do your fighting for you?
Ken growled softly, starting, but his wife put a warning hand on his shoulder. If it was one thing that could get past his cool exterior, it was anyone insulting his wife.
"Alright then," she said and her voice was cool and very calm, but Ken knew that she was angry. "He's staying out of this." She shot him a look, and Ken saw her signal to stay out. The look in her eyes was more than enough however.
The opponent flipped into the ring, and Miyako moved into a fighting stance. He mirrored her position and mocked, "Are you ready?"
She smiled, and Ken, despite himself, felt a shiver run down his back. That was her bloodthirsty smile and so unlike her normal gentle one. He had seen his wife angry and had wisely stayed out of the way.
Like a panther, the other man moved suddenly, and the battle began. Both were evenly matched apparently, but Ken knew perfectly well that his wife was holding herself back in some of the kicks and punches, few of which could easily kill Jenrya with proper application.
Miyako remained silent as she fought on. He was good, but she had better training. With someone like her grandfather as a trainer, anyone would become an excellent fighter, just to keep him in a good mood. Boring, she thought. I think Iori can teach this cocky bastard a lesson while drinking his morning tea.
She saw an opening and smiled sardonically, the only sign of emotion on her face. Using a combination that the priest had taught her a few years before, she bowled him over. Kneeling on his back and holding his arms still, she asked, not even breathing hard, "Yield?"
He nodded but when she relaxed her grip just a little, he broke free and aimed a punch at her. Amber eyes flashed angrily as she grasped his fist and twisted. She snarled, "Don't. Ever. Cheat. You. Bastard." Then there was the sound of snapping bone and a strangled cry of pain from the blue haired man.
She had broken his arm cleanly and the audience gaped. Releasing his hand, she looked at him in disgust. Ken came over to her, putting an arm over her shoulder. She looked weary, as she did when she ever did something like this in a fight.
"I don't fight my wife's battles," he said to Jenrya quietly. "She fights them herself. But if you ever insult her again." He held the other man's uninjured shoulder in a tight grip. "I will break your other arm."
"Wait, my business isn't done with you," Miyako said quietly, eying the blue haired man. "You are coming with us." In disgust and resignation, the man allowed himself to be led away.
~*~
"And that's all I know," Jenrya said quietly, as Ken finished treating the broken bone. He took a sip of coffee in silence.
"So much for the informant," Miyako rubbed her temples. "Listen, I'm really sorry about that."
He dismissed it gloomily. "I've broken this arm plenty of times, another time doesn't matter. Besides, I should consider myself chided. At least you didn't kill me, you had every right to."
"I would've but I didn't, and that's it." She stirred her tea.
Ken sighed. "We don't have much to go on. Maybe there are connections here."
She shot him a look. "We'll discuss that later."
"Why do you want to know?" Jenrya asked, setting his mug down. He seemed at ease in Ken's fancy apartment, surprisingly.
"I have a few contacts in Interpol," Miyako said, not quite lying but not quite telling the truth either.
"Ah. But that's all I know, the streets have been buzzing about it." He sighed and rose silently. "Listen, I'll be missed, I better go."
"By whom?" Ken asked, indigo eyes looking right at him.
The blue haired man smiled wanly. "By people, some of whom I would not like to face with a broken arm, and a few who need me."
"At least let me compensate," Miyako said, reaching for her wallet, but he shook his head.
"I get by. I'll hitch a ride with a taxi or just make it home through walking. Thank you." He went out the door.
Ken was silent until he said quietly, "Can we trust him?"
Miyako was thoughtful. "That I don't know. But we have no choice. Pack up, we leave for Japan tomorrow."