Sleepwake (Part 10/?)
See Part 1 for disclaimer
Kahoru paused a moment, her face like stone. She gave the man in the white uniform a long, piercing look. She knew it was piercing because she had perfected it years ago; in Kahoru's veteran opinion, no female officer had completed her training without a Look.
"Papers?" she finally asked. The man produced three manila folders, which Kahoru examined. Prisoners were transferred on a regular basis, and normally she wouldn't have paid so much attention after seeing identification, but it was four in the morning, and she was curious about why these men couldn't wait until sun up.
"You are here to return them to the mental ward?" she said, looking up from the folders. "All. . . twelve of you."
Eleven men remained silent and Kahoru wondered if they were trying to intimidate her with uniformity. The first spoke again.
"Specifically, to the criminally insane division. The three are highly dangerous. We mean to retrieve them without any chance of error."
Kahoru turned back to the papers, trying to find the reason for her sudden sense of suspicion. Hwoarang, no surname; twenty years old, male. Kazama, Jin; twenty-one, male. Ling, Xiaoyu; seventeen, female. Kahoru had heard all these names before, but the associations that came to her weren't related to criminals. . . they were to martial arts. Why? She racked her mind, trying to understand the connections her intuition had made.
And why was there so little information in the folders for Ling and Hwoarang, while Kazama's background description was almost too detailed?
Kahoru looked at the uniformed men. Her trained eye detected agitation. She wondered again: what was the hurry for?
"We have dealt with mental ward escapees before," she said in a measured tone, watching their faces and seeing more tension, "I'm afraid the papers for Ling and the street leader are rather lacking in information. I hope you will not take offense, but a call will be made to verify that there have been no mistakes." Kahoru kept her choice of words purposefully vague; she didn't know what "mistakes" might have been made, but she intended to find out.
"Although," she said with reluctance, "Kazama does check out."
Kahoru didn't trust these wardens. If it was up to her, Kazama would stay regardless, but procedure was procedure. She couldn't detain them based on a bad feeling.
"Sign here," Kahoru handed the uniformed men the board, "and the guard will take you to his cell." While I get to the bottom of this, she added silently. She waited until they were out of sight, and picked up the phone.
* * *
Jin was on the bench, waiting and listening to the footfalls grow louder. A part of him was afraid, a whining, relentless fear, but he detested that piece of him. Most of Jin felt something similar to relief. It was going to end. A devil would die without hurting any more people. This was inevitable, this was how it should have been.
But Xiaoyu didn't seem to understand. She had latched onto him in fierce hug, nearly knocking the breath out of him. Jin remembered that this was how she had greeted him, eight hours ago, after seeing him for the first time in weeks. They had come full circle.
"It's not over," she said, her face buried in his neck.
"Yes," Jin told her, giving in and returning her hug, "it is."
"They're coming," murmured Hwoarang, and sure enough, the footsteps sounded close.
Xiaoyu pulled away from Jin, only to stand in front of him, like a mother hen defending her young.
The Tekkenshu were now on the other side of the cell bars. Without their armor, they looked strangely ridiculous, overly developed men in poorly fitting uniforms. The guard unlocked the door. Several of the Tekkenshu came into the cell.
"Kazama," said one who had entered, as though Jin didn't know. Jin stood, and walked by Xiaoyu. She let him pass, but he saw tears in her eyes, and it nearly undid his resolve. I manage to hurt you, he thought, even when I'm trying to protect you. But this will be the last time, Xiaoyu.
Jin stopped before the Tekkenshu soldier, holding out his wrists to be handcuffed.
"Wait!" called a loud voice- female, but not Xiaoyu's. A woman strode down the hallway, flanked on each side by two guards. Her brisk pace soon brought her to the cell.
"You are unauthorized to take any of these prisoners," she said, a level gaze directed at the man who was about to handcuff Jin. The soldier paused, but said nothing.
"I called the ward. There have been no escapees, not from the criminally insane division, or anywhere else. You will step out of the cell, and-"
"I'm sorry," the soldier cut in, his cold tone suggesting otherwise, "we cannot leave without Kazama." In a sudden motion, the soldier reached out and hooked his arm around Xiaoyu's neck, pressing a gun behind her ear.
"And you have no choice but to let us do so."
Jin froze, his mind racing. He made eye contact with Xiaoyu, and shouted the first words that came to mind:
"Minty fresh!"
The man turned to the source of noise by reflex. Xiaoyu took advantage of his distraction, slipping out of his grip while pushing his shooting arm away, at the wall. There was a shower of sparks as the gun shot into stone.
And then a soft sound came from the female officer. Jin saw her collapse onto the floor, her half-drawn weapon falling in the lake of crimson that spread beneath her. A bullet had ricocheted.
The Tekkenshu seemed unwilling to meet a similar fate. Only a few had their guns out and no one had time to aim. Armed, yelling policemen rushed into the hall, having heard the gunshots. Some Tekkenshu looked ready to bolt while others had bloodlust in their eyes. Meanwhile, Hwoarang gave the closest soldier a sharp kick in the knee, and a second bullet ricocheted.
Chaos broke out.
No one seemed to know what was going on, but everybody was shooting. Jin bent into a low crouch, dragging Xiaoyu down with him. Hwoarang was already out the door, crawling to avoid the crossfire. They hurried behind him, and plastered themselves against the wall when they finally turned a corner, grateful for the chance to catch their breath. Jin risked a glance around the wall: they were still firing and it didn't seem as though anyone would be coming after them in the confusion.
"Minty fresh?!" Hwoarang said, panting, "The Firefly's about to get her head blown off and you're thinking about chewing gum?"
"Didn't see you come up with anything better," snapped Jin. Xiaoyu was oddly still, her gaze unfocused.
"Xiaoyu? Are you okay? Did you get hurt?" Jin's eyes were frantic now, scanning for injury.
She looked past him, whispering something that sounded like "the woman". Hwoarang moved his hand in front of her eyes. She didn't follow it.
"She's in shock," stated the Korean.
"Xiaoyu, you're safe now. They won't take any of us to the mental ward."
"You can't _reason_ someone out of shock, Kazama," said Hwoarang with disgust. "Now take off your coat." Jin stared at him.
"Am I supposed to striptease her out of shock?"
Hwoarang gave up, and resorted to tugging the hooded jacket off of Jin. The redhead wrapped it around Xiaoyu with startling care.
Then he stood up. "Let's go."
Jin stood also, pulling Xiaoyu into his arms when she didn't move. Carrying her, he let Hwoarang lead the way, and the other man navigated through hallways with preternatural confidence. Finally, they faced a gated metal door. Hwoarang took out a set of keys and began trying them, one by one.
"Where did those come from?"
"Took them from the guard while he was busy cowering."
"You've done this before, haven't you."
"Why would you think that?" asked the redhead, as he opened the door with a flourish and a grin. They entered a large room filled with cabinets and cluttered desks. Caught by a draft, a piece of paper fluttered onto the floor.
"It's completely empty. Everyone went to the Tekkenshu," muttered Jin. "If it took them all their officers, then Heihachi must have sent us his best."
"Who cares, the windows are open!" said Hwoarang, sounding almost giddy.
They walked out the last door without trying a single key.
Author's notes:
Yes, they're free at last! Aren't you glad? I know I am ^_^ .
But yeah, I'm feeling less ramble-y today (I can just hear you guys sighing in relief ^_^). It's probably because of all the rain over here, rather depressing.
Oh wait, I hope everybody had a great New Year's Eve! Mine wasn't very interesting: I slept through most of it. I totally forgot today was New Years Day! Didn't realize it until I heard the firecrackers going off ^_^. I'm ditzy that way.
Plus a huge thanks as always to Sam Blackcrow for wonderful beta-reading, even when feeling under-the-weather recently. Everybody send Sam good vibes!
Constructive criticism will be printed out and framed. Flames will be used to toast marshmallows. Yum.
See Part 1 for disclaimer
Kahoru paused a moment, her face like stone. She gave the man in the white uniform a long, piercing look. She knew it was piercing because she had perfected it years ago; in Kahoru's veteran opinion, no female officer had completed her training without a Look.
"Papers?" she finally asked. The man produced three manila folders, which Kahoru examined. Prisoners were transferred on a regular basis, and normally she wouldn't have paid so much attention after seeing identification, but it was four in the morning, and she was curious about why these men couldn't wait until sun up.
"You are here to return them to the mental ward?" she said, looking up from the folders. "All. . . twelve of you."
Eleven men remained silent and Kahoru wondered if they were trying to intimidate her with uniformity. The first spoke again.
"Specifically, to the criminally insane division. The three are highly dangerous. We mean to retrieve them without any chance of error."
Kahoru turned back to the papers, trying to find the reason for her sudden sense of suspicion. Hwoarang, no surname; twenty years old, male. Kazama, Jin; twenty-one, male. Ling, Xiaoyu; seventeen, female. Kahoru had heard all these names before, but the associations that came to her weren't related to criminals. . . they were to martial arts. Why? She racked her mind, trying to understand the connections her intuition had made.
And why was there so little information in the folders for Ling and Hwoarang, while Kazama's background description was almost too detailed?
Kahoru looked at the uniformed men. Her trained eye detected agitation. She wondered again: what was the hurry for?
"We have dealt with mental ward escapees before," she said in a measured tone, watching their faces and seeing more tension, "I'm afraid the papers for Ling and the street leader are rather lacking in information. I hope you will not take offense, but a call will be made to verify that there have been no mistakes." Kahoru kept her choice of words purposefully vague; she didn't know what "mistakes" might have been made, but she intended to find out.
"Although," she said with reluctance, "Kazama does check out."
Kahoru didn't trust these wardens. If it was up to her, Kazama would stay regardless, but procedure was procedure. She couldn't detain them based on a bad feeling.
"Sign here," Kahoru handed the uniformed men the board, "and the guard will take you to his cell." While I get to the bottom of this, she added silently. She waited until they were out of sight, and picked up the phone.
* * *
Jin was on the bench, waiting and listening to the footfalls grow louder. A part of him was afraid, a whining, relentless fear, but he detested that piece of him. Most of Jin felt something similar to relief. It was going to end. A devil would die without hurting any more people. This was inevitable, this was how it should have been.
But Xiaoyu didn't seem to understand. She had latched onto him in fierce hug, nearly knocking the breath out of him. Jin remembered that this was how she had greeted him, eight hours ago, after seeing him for the first time in weeks. They had come full circle.
"It's not over," she said, her face buried in his neck.
"Yes," Jin told her, giving in and returning her hug, "it is."
"They're coming," murmured Hwoarang, and sure enough, the footsteps sounded close.
Xiaoyu pulled away from Jin, only to stand in front of him, like a mother hen defending her young.
The Tekkenshu were now on the other side of the cell bars. Without their armor, they looked strangely ridiculous, overly developed men in poorly fitting uniforms. The guard unlocked the door. Several of the Tekkenshu came into the cell.
"Kazama," said one who had entered, as though Jin didn't know. Jin stood, and walked by Xiaoyu. She let him pass, but he saw tears in her eyes, and it nearly undid his resolve. I manage to hurt you, he thought, even when I'm trying to protect you. But this will be the last time, Xiaoyu.
Jin stopped before the Tekkenshu soldier, holding out his wrists to be handcuffed.
"Wait!" called a loud voice- female, but not Xiaoyu's. A woman strode down the hallway, flanked on each side by two guards. Her brisk pace soon brought her to the cell.
"You are unauthorized to take any of these prisoners," she said, a level gaze directed at the man who was about to handcuff Jin. The soldier paused, but said nothing.
"I called the ward. There have been no escapees, not from the criminally insane division, or anywhere else. You will step out of the cell, and-"
"I'm sorry," the soldier cut in, his cold tone suggesting otherwise, "we cannot leave without Kazama." In a sudden motion, the soldier reached out and hooked his arm around Xiaoyu's neck, pressing a gun behind her ear.
"And you have no choice but to let us do so."
Jin froze, his mind racing. He made eye contact with Xiaoyu, and shouted the first words that came to mind:
"Minty fresh!"
The man turned to the source of noise by reflex. Xiaoyu took advantage of his distraction, slipping out of his grip while pushing his shooting arm away, at the wall. There was a shower of sparks as the gun shot into stone.
And then a soft sound came from the female officer. Jin saw her collapse onto the floor, her half-drawn weapon falling in the lake of crimson that spread beneath her. A bullet had ricocheted.
The Tekkenshu seemed unwilling to meet a similar fate. Only a few had their guns out and no one had time to aim. Armed, yelling policemen rushed into the hall, having heard the gunshots. Some Tekkenshu looked ready to bolt while others had bloodlust in their eyes. Meanwhile, Hwoarang gave the closest soldier a sharp kick in the knee, and a second bullet ricocheted.
Chaos broke out.
No one seemed to know what was going on, but everybody was shooting. Jin bent into a low crouch, dragging Xiaoyu down with him. Hwoarang was already out the door, crawling to avoid the crossfire. They hurried behind him, and plastered themselves against the wall when they finally turned a corner, grateful for the chance to catch their breath. Jin risked a glance around the wall: they were still firing and it didn't seem as though anyone would be coming after them in the confusion.
"Minty fresh?!" Hwoarang said, panting, "The Firefly's about to get her head blown off and you're thinking about chewing gum?"
"Didn't see you come up with anything better," snapped Jin. Xiaoyu was oddly still, her gaze unfocused.
"Xiaoyu? Are you okay? Did you get hurt?" Jin's eyes were frantic now, scanning for injury.
She looked past him, whispering something that sounded like "the woman". Hwoarang moved his hand in front of her eyes. She didn't follow it.
"She's in shock," stated the Korean.
"Xiaoyu, you're safe now. They won't take any of us to the mental ward."
"You can't _reason_ someone out of shock, Kazama," said Hwoarang with disgust. "Now take off your coat." Jin stared at him.
"Am I supposed to striptease her out of shock?"
Hwoarang gave up, and resorted to tugging the hooded jacket off of Jin. The redhead wrapped it around Xiaoyu with startling care.
Then he stood up. "Let's go."
Jin stood also, pulling Xiaoyu into his arms when she didn't move. Carrying her, he let Hwoarang lead the way, and the other man navigated through hallways with preternatural confidence. Finally, they faced a gated metal door. Hwoarang took out a set of keys and began trying them, one by one.
"Where did those come from?"
"Took them from the guard while he was busy cowering."
"You've done this before, haven't you."
"Why would you think that?" asked the redhead, as he opened the door with a flourish and a grin. They entered a large room filled with cabinets and cluttered desks. Caught by a draft, a piece of paper fluttered onto the floor.
"It's completely empty. Everyone went to the Tekkenshu," muttered Jin. "If it took them all their officers, then Heihachi must have sent us his best."
"Who cares, the windows are open!" said Hwoarang, sounding almost giddy.
They walked out the last door without trying a single key.
Author's notes:
Yes, they're free at last! Aren't you glad? I know I am ^_^ .
But yeah, I'm feeling less ramble-y today (I can just hear you guys sighing in relief ^_^). It's probably because of all the rain over here, rather depressing.
Oh wait, I hope everybody had a great New Year's Eve! Mine wasn't very interesting: I slept through most of it. I totally forgot today was New Years Day! Didn't realize it until I heard the firecrackers going off ^_^. I'm ditzy that way.
Plus a huge thanks as always to Sam Blackcrow for wonderful beta-reading, even when feeling under-the-weather recently. Everybody send Sam good vibes!
Constructive criticism will be printed out and framed. Flames will be used to toast marshmallows. Yum.