Yay! A new chapter! Enjoy! And if you didn't, say so!
Mireille awoke to the overbearing rings of the phone. Had it been an alarm it would have been thrown to the ground, but upon picking up the receiver, the voice was too familiar to ignore.
"Are you both going to sleep all day?" The man laughed at her, confirming that they were still being watched.
"Is there a point to this?" from beside her she could feel Kirika waking up again.
"Depends if you're willing to listen."
"Spit it up already." She hissed.
"Another letter will be sent to you tonight. Do believe, we want you to join. There are just too many benefits. For you and for us."
She sighed as she hung up the phone. "Kirika?"
"Un?"
"Wake me up if something interesting happens…"
"…Um.." Kirika nodded, closing her eyes as she held the photo tightly within her hands.
Kirika's eyelids lowered unknowingly. She was in a daze again, the image of the picture dissolving under her spell. Thoughts and scenarios swam in her head leading her nowhere but to Mireille's words. Of course it wasn't real. It couldn't be real. Surely Soldats has everything to forge this all together? But what did they want? Noir at their hands? They couldn't expect that; that's just wishful thinking.
'But, what is there to do?' The silence was disturbed as she heard a light tapping on the hotel door. Unsure, she looked at Mireille, sleeping far to deep to be reached. Again the tapping came, and from beneath the crack of the door emerged an envelope.
"Wait!" She exhaled. Quickly she jumped over Mireille and off the bed, but by the time she opened the door the soldier had left, it's car screeching painfully behind.
"Kirika? What's going on?" Mireille moaned. She was worried, but was too groggy to let Kirika know.
"It's nothing. Just go back to sleep." It wasn't like Kirika to hide the whole truth from Mireille, then again, looking at Mireille with her darkened eyes, she need not be bothered by trivial things. 'You've done so much for me already… Now it's my turn.'
As Mireille swayed back into slumber Kirika picked up the envelope and effortlessly slashed it open with the pocketknife she had given her. It was taken from the rubble of the broken apartment, just when another wave of soldiers came to force them on the run. She remembered vividly since it was the first time Mireille had ever truly saved her…
It was an excruciating memory. To be surrounded completely by the darkness, weapon lost and bullet wounds still fresh and tender to the touch. At that time her only thoughts were that she deserved this. That this was the fate of the path she chose to step in. But, she never did choose this path. No, she was born into it. She remembered whimpering just a little but thankfully no one had heard. Bullets were swimming in the air and they were coming from one direction. Mireille was there. Mireille was always with her.
But there was a struggle, and Mireille was losing… She was never that good in hand-to-hand combat… Then before she could realize it, Mireille was on the floor and the soldier's face right in front of her own. She tried to move, but the pain in tearing her own skin was overbearing. Had she had more time in recovering maybe then she would have enough blood inside her to fight back. But she didn't.
But Mireille did. Moonlight against a blade, no sound to signify that anything was in real mental control. It was almost an animal reflex, vulgar and barbaric, much like her own killing style. Mireille had slashed his throat and held the blade still, letting the blood spill just for her.
Kirika could only stare in disbelief as she watched Mireille wait for the aura to disappear before daring to let go. Satisfied, she dropped the body and spoke calmly, her visible darkness feeding off the death in the room. 'Maybe… you should hold onto this for now.'
'Yeah…' was all she could say as the Mireille she had come to admire had returned at the release of the blade. The darkness was changing her, and although this was the first time Mireille had saved her without reasons of personal gain… For Kirika, this was also the first time she was ever truly afraid.
"We need to get more ammo," Mireille said casually, almost seeming to ignore what just happened.
"…Un." Kirika closed her eyes, letting the touch of the blade make her hate the darkness even more…
It was another photo, and it seemed just as old as the other one. Kirika was in shock at the sight. Not because of the disturbance of a mutilated body, but because of whom it was. She was older, but it was definitely the child with caramel brown hair. The child who had glowed with an enchanting innocence while being held gingerly by her father and mother. But she was broken now. Pale and crying tears of blood at being scattered on the cracked marble floor they left her on. Kirika's anger flowed at the unjustified death. They did this to her. Soldats did this to her. Truth or not… Kirika, wanted revenge.
Automatically she flipped the photo over. Something was scribbled on the back, but it was illegible, smudged chicken scratches. Not even coloring over it would reveal any sensible words. In little desperation she looked for anything more within the envelope. Surprisingly there was. Pulling out a folded peace of paper, she noticed it was obviously torn from a book. The authenticity Soldats was giving was very unlike them. The writing was in Japanese, partially blurred from what she assumed was water. Slowly she read it, little by little, for she knew soon enough she would have to translate it for Mireille.
What I had dreaded has happened. My child, my dear child… Why was I not strong enough to give the guidance to help you survive? Were my efforts not enough? Were the trials too much for you even after all that training? I am pained to find that all these skills were not suitable enough for your honorable title. I am so sorry my dear. I'm so sorry… but know. You're life is not useless. I will not let it be useless. Oh my dear, I loved you so much, and if possible, even more so then your dear mother. You were my hope, and will always be my hope. Part of me is glad that your heart was not eaten alive by the sins that bind your mother and myself. I would hate to see you without that innocence that your child eyes had looked upon me with. I laugh at the times you've often wooed me with that look, just to stray away from a moment of training. But I know, it is because of my weakness that you are gone now. Though you may not be able to carry on the name of redemption… You will always be my NOIR, my dear daughter.
Your mother has given me great news… It almost seems that you want to come back to me.
"Awfully vague isn't it?" Mirelle pointed out after being recited the letter.
"Yes but," Kirika paused, "It's enough for me."
"Oh?" Mireille watched as Kirika stepped closer to the hotel door.
"Let's go Mireiyu… I want to take advantage of this."
Mireille smiled as she picked up her gun and followed Kirika out of the room.
'I think my assertiveness is rubbing off on you.'
'…uh?'
"It's not like you to walk in front of me." Kirika looked back at her realizing that she had broken her usual habit.
"Maybe you're just slow."
"Excuse me!" Mireille laughed at the sass Kirika had shown. She countered, laughing even more. "I guess that isn't the only thing."
'Mireiyu…' Kirika looked away, annoyed with Mireille's attitude… But she smiled anyways.
~*~
'It's annoying to have to start from scratch,' Mireille complained to herself as she looked over her newly bought paraphernalia. She assumed that for the underworld of Europe they would have complete control over all weaponry connections and stop her in getting any form of defense, but for a salesman he was nice… Too nice. "Nothing faulty?"
"Doesn't feel like it." Kirika loaded her magazine, intently looking at each bullet, not that she would really find anything out of the ordinary. It wasn't blind faith; she just didn't feel like anything was wrong.
"Is that all your basing it on?" Mireille lifted an eyebrow.
"Guess so…"
Mireille sighed as she loaded up her backpack and put it on. Gone were the stylish clothing and expensive handbags, willingly replaced for something more inconspicuous. To any normal person she would have seemed like an overly adventurous woman, touring the landscapes of Europe in search of epiphanies and ultimately true love. Oh, but she could never be normal, something which she gladly accepted.
Kirika followed suit, wobbling a bit under the unexpected weight. Quickly Mireille caught her red beret before it touched the ground, and affectionately put it back to complete the foreign look Kirika never could quite let go of since coming to France. It must be the aloofness, she thought, that was often disturbed by an endearing childlike curiosity triggered by almost anything. It was this aesthete demeanor, that had Kirika lived in another time, Mireille believed she would have been a glorious warrior, unafraid of even the samurai act of Seppuku. Thankfully though, she didn't have that proud Bushido mentality.
"Mireiyu? Is something wrong?"
"Death before disgrace…" Kirika looked at her with a confused expression. Was she referring back to some sort of literature she hadn't heard about? "Death before disgrace… Do you agree?"
Kirika took in the oddity of an idea and assuredly replied, "No… Then there'd be no point of forgiveness, and we need that, the whole world needs that."
"Not necessarily the whole world but yes, those who deserve it," Mireille smiled within herself. Kirika surely could be something, had she the desire of more then just the quiet life.
"Mireiyu?"
"Oh! Sorry…" A sigh. "I seem to be dazing more often then usual."
"My contribution." Kirika smiled widely, a little laugh escaping her lips. Mireille let the surprise of the act remain within herself. More then anything she wanted Kirika to express herself more often, without becoming insecure of her own responds to it. The laugh was so natural, so unexpected.
Placing her arm around Kirika's shoulders, Mireille lightheartedly led the way. They looked like two dreamers, traveling in hope of grand journeys and excitement. Today was the day for changing one's everyday life, even if the afternoon sun was noticeably aggravated. "Mireiyu, that woman seems to be following us."
"Oh yeah?" Mireille laughed a bit loudly and tousled Kirika's hair to keep in role-play, appearing unaware of the women obviously stalking them. "Lets separate now, shall we?"
"Un," Kirika acknowledged the tacit expression in Mireille's eyes and casually moved away from her toward the murals and paintings of amateur street artists. From the corner of her eye she could see Mireille sit on a bench acting annoyed and bored of the 'sudden interest' Kirika was playing.
Mireille watched as the stalker woman made her way over to the paintings near Kirika. Tentatively she moved ever so nearer and bravely locked her arm with Kirika's. Mireille smiled as she saw Kirika's shock at the intrusion. It was different; Mireille had to at least give the woman that credit. She sat back, laughing slightly at Kirika as she watched her try to separate from the couple scenario they were building as their arms stayed interlocked.
"Beautiful painting no?" The woman's green eyes flashed on her, stopping her in her attempt to push her away. Noticing how uncomfortable Kirika was, the woman locked her arm tighter, pulling her closer.
"Yes… It is." Kirika looked back at Mireille. Catching her as she tried to stifle her laughs with the annoyed poker face she was supposed to be wearing.
The woman followed her gaze and decided to get to the point. "But I don't think it quite compares, to the paintings your father did…"
"What?" Kirika became wide eyed.
"You should see it. It's simply… Oh, what word best describes it?" At that, the woman stared deeply into Kirika's eyes and lowered her hand to trace along hers. Kirika grasped the small book she placed but did not turn to acknowledge it. The green eyes were trying to penetrate her, desiring to see what she did not deserve to see. Neither turned away in weakness. "It's magnetic…Yes, that's the word…Magnetic."
At that, the woman moved too close. Shifting, Kirika was caught on the cheek, just narrowly missing a kiss to the lips. In her peripheral vision she could see that Mireille was not on the street bench anymore. The woman knew that also, and swiftly separated, interlocking her green eyes one more time with Kirika as if to say, 'Next time…'
~*~
Mireille watched the auburn haired woman turn away from Kirika and run off to the alleyways. She followed without regret, despite the tension and anxiety building within her. Silently she wondered why her senses were speaking this way. It certainly wasn't fear. This was her life, but why was this presence inside telling her not to follow? Mireille shook her head, now was not the time to listen. Now was the time to make her move.
Quickly the woman climbed over a garbage can, pushing herself over a wooden fence. Seeing this, Mireille pulled her Walther automatically from its holster and jumped high enough to propel herself with one hand on the fence; her other hand followed, pointing at the form she was expecting. But the woman was expecting her also. Kirika neared the alley, tripping simultaneously with the gunshots that acted as one. As she pulled herself up, an ill-fated thud signified something was hit.
"Mireiyu!"
