Mireille in Japan, Chapter 2
People walked around everywhere in front of her, rapidly chatting in Japanese. Some were mothers with their children, laughing with each other while they walked. Others were businessmen, the kind that walked around with briefcases, their heads down, always hurrying to the next meeting. They wore suits and briefly reminded Mireille of all the Soldats they had killed.
She closed her eyes and opened them again as a car drove past her, the breeze riffling through her hair. In the distance, she heard girls giggling wildly. There was a school there. Not Kirika's school, but simply a high school like the one she had gone to.
Was Kirika even alive now? She didn't know.
Instinctively she began to walk towards the school, directly into the street and forcing the cars to stop for her. Her gaze was focused solely on the girls. One of them had short dark hair with a messy curl to it. Mireille opened her mouth, ready to call out Kirika's name, when a mew at her feet caught her attention. She looked down to see a baby kitten with golden fur looking up expectantly at her.
"Oh, not another cat," she said, wishing that the animal would go away and stop paining her with memories of Kirika. "Go away!"
But the kitten just stood there, not insulted in the least, and mewed again. Sighing, Mireille bent down and gathered it into her arms. It licked her hand and mewed again, then was contently silent. Mireille stroked it and scratched it behind the ears as Kirika had taught her, and headed on.
They wore neatly pleated dark green skirts and a matching dark green jacket over their white shirts, all of which were embroidered with the school's initials. A boy wearing pants of the same shade and the same jacket walked up and tapped the Kirika-like girl on the shoulder. She laughed gaily, waved cheerfully to her friends, and left with him. Mireille sighed. No, she was not like Kirika at all.
She remembered how Kirika had looked that day at school. She had worn the same clothes, but anyone could tell at first glance that she wasn't like the others. She looked scared and unsure of herself, only waving stiffly when the other girls giggled and left her.
The kitten in Mireille's hands mewed and looked up, batting a paw playfully at her hair. Despite her gloomy mood, Mireille smiled. "You really are a cute little thing, you know that?" The soft spring wind blew a lock of blonde hair into the kitten's face and it mewed in protest while clawing at it.
Mireille laughed-truly laughed for the first time in a long time. She was content just to walk down the street now, a simple pleasure that she was able to enjoy without the constant fear of being watched. Cherry trees bloomed all around the tree and petals were torn off and floated in the soft wind. Mireille shivered a little. It was only early spring, and she had worn just a tank top and a skirt.
"I'll find Kirika's house tomorrow," thought Mireille. The sky was a brilliant quilt of pinks and purples and red and oranges sewn into one gorgeous Japanese sunset. "For now, I ought to just find a motel and sleep."
The kitten mewed again. Mireille looked down at her in concern. "What am I going to do with you? They won't let you in the motel," she said softly.
She ended up hiding it in her bag, stifling its mewing, when she reached the first hotel she saw. The only sensible answer Mireille could come up with to most of the clerk's questions was "Wakarimasen" (I don't understand), but he was very patient and in less than ten minutes she had a room, which she understood was on the third floor. Most of all, she appreciated not having to even think of the possibility of his being a Soldat.
Mireille opened the door to reveal a cozy little room with a bed in the middle and a TV. She shut the door and walked inside to the bed.
"You poor thing." She opened her bed and the kitten happily bounded out. It mewed and leaped playfully around Mireille's legs, rubbing against her high black boots. "Be quiet, please," Mireille begged, but a smile was creeping onto her face. She bent down and scratched the cat behind its ears. It promptly mewed and began rolling on the floor.
"I suppose I ought to give you a name. I wonder if you have one already? Where did you come from?" Mireille asked it playfully. She stood up and stepped into the bathroom to take a hot shower.
When she came out, the kitten was fast asleep, curled up in the center of her bed.
"Oh lovely. I wasn't anticipating having to share my bed with you," Mireille scolded gently, then clambered in beside it. She drew the kitten closer to her and fell fast asleep.
= = = = = = = =
"Mireille."
"Kirika?" A gasp followed. "Kirika."
Kirika said nothing, just stared openly with large miserable eyes at Mireille, who was still standing in the doorway, the door ajar. The clock behind Kirika sounded its deep echoing ring. It was nearly one in the morning.
"Kirika." Mireille tried to find ways to explain. "We're different now. Before, we were bound by the name of Noir, but now." Her voice faltered upon seeing Kirika's unwavering expression. She lowered her head. "We've begun trying to lead normal lives. We've tried to put Altena and Chloe behind us. We."
At the same time, Kirika started, "I-"
Both stopped and looked at the other, waiting for her to continue. It was Kirika who broke the silence. "I miss-being Noir, Mireille."
Mireille gasped. Kirika's expression remained. "How can you say that? Those were some of the darkest days of our lives. We made a living killing people, killing Chloe and Altena-"
"No. I don't miss any of that. But we were closer then. We knew each other. Mireille-I feel like you're a stranger to me now. You're never home and when you are, we don't talk about anything anymore."
The Corsican blonde made no attempt to apologize. "Kirika, when we were Noir, we had to know every aspect of each other's life and be able to read each other's minds. We've left that life behind. We're living like normal people now, people who-"
"Don't need to know each other all that well?" Kirika cut Mireille off for the third time, and this time Mireille detected a bit of anger in her voice.
She didn't want to reply with the word yes. To tell the truth, she was exhausted. She'd worked late at her job as a florist and been stuck in a traffic jam for nearly two hours afterwards. The last thing she wanted was an argument with Kirika.
But Kirika was standing here in front of her, waiting for a reply.
"Yes, I suppose that's what I mean," Mireille said slowly. "I'm not saying we're not friends, Kirika. It's just that we're each leading our own individual lives now and." Her voice trailed off. Kirika stared stonily at her, her eyes never leaving Mireille's crystal blue ones. "I'm exhausted. We can continue this in the morning. I'm going to go to bed now," she said, going up the steps that led to their bed. Behind her, Kirika stood motionless like a crystal in ore that had been standing for thousands of years, but Mireille had never looked back at her. She put on a soft pink nightgown and stretched out on the bed, instantly drifting off to sleep.
The next morning, Kirika was gone.
= = = = = = = =
Mireille awoke to the gentle rays of sunlight dancing across her cheeks. She moaned, then shut her eyes and tried to sleep again. A soft paw with just a touch of claws swept across her face. "Ouch!"
The last images of Kirika faded from her mind. Mireille sat up and rubbed her eyes and groaned. She'd dreamed of her last conversation with Kirika again.
The kitten leaped into her lap and mewed, as if to say, "I still need a name!"
Mireille absentmindedly scratched it behind the ears, still thinking of Kirika. She recalled how Kirika had stood motionless as a crystal, but just at that moment the kitten stood on its hind legs and batted at her hair with its paws.
"Ouch! Okay, okay, stop it, I'll give you a name. I don't even know if you're female or male, but I'll call you Crystal anyway."
It mewed contently.
Mireille smiled and got out of bed, stretching her arms as she did so. Today she'd go to find Kirika's old house.
People walked around everywhere in front of her, rapidly chatting in Japanese. Some were mothers with their children, laughing with each other while they walked. Others were businessmen, the kind that walked around with briefcases, their heads down, always hurrying to the next meeting. They wore suits and briefly reminded Mireille of all the Soldats they had killed.
She closed her eyes and opened them again as a car drove past her, the breeze riffling through her hair. In the distance, she heard girls giggling wildly. There was a school there. Not Kirika's school, but simply a high school like the one she had gone to.
Was Kirika even alive now? She didn't know.
Instinctively she began to walk towards the school, directly into the street and forcing the cars to stop for her. Her gaze was focused solely on the girls. One of them had short dark hair with a messy curl to it. Mireille opened her mouth, ready to call out Kirika's name, when a mew at her feet caught her attention. She looked down to see a baby kitten with golden fur looking up expectantly at her.
"Oh, not another cat," she said, wishing that the animal would go away and stop paining her with memories of Kirika. "Go away!"
But the kitten just stood there, not insulted in the least, and mewed again. Sighing, Mireille bent down and gathered it into her arms. It licked her hand and mewed again, then was contently silent. Mireille stroked it and scratched it behind the ears as Kirika had taught her, and headed on.
They wore neatly pleated dark green skirts and a matching dark green jacket over their white shirts, all of which were embroidered with the school's initials. A boy wearing pants of the same shade and the same jacket walked up and tapped the Kirika-like girl on the shoulder. She laughed gaily, waved cheerfully to her friends, and left with him. Mireille sighed. No, she was not like Kirika at all.
She remembered how Kirika had looked that day at school. She had worn the same clothes, but anyone could tell at first glance that she wasn't like the others. She looked scared and unsure of herself, only waving stiffly when the other girls giggled and left her.
The kitten in Mireille's hands mewed and looked up, batting a paw playfully at her hair. Despite her gloomy mood, Mireille smiled. "You really are a cute little thing, you know that?" The soft spring wind blew a lock of blonde hair into the kitten's face and it mewed in protest while clawing at it.
Mireille laughed-truly laughed for the first time in a long time. She was content just to walk down the street now, a simple pleasure that she was able to enjoy without the constant fear of being watched. Cherry trees bloomed all around the tree and petals were torn off and floated in the soft wind. Mireille shivered a little. It was only early spring, and she had worn just a tank top and a skirt.
"I'll find Kirika's house tomorrow," thought Mireille. The sky was a brilliant quilt of pinks and purples and red and oranges sewn into one gorgeous Japanese sunset. "For now, I ought to just find a motel and sleep."
The kitten mewed again. Mireille looked down at her in concern. "What am I going to do with you? They won't let you in the motel," she said softly.
She ended up hiding it in her bag, stifling its mewing, when she reached the first hotel she saw. The only sensible answer Mireille could come up with to most of the clerk's questions was "Wakarimasen" (I don't understand), but he was very patient and in less than ten minutes she had a room, which she understood was on the third floor. Most of all, she appreciated not having to even think of the possibility of his being a Soldat.
Mireille opened the door to reveal a cozy little room with a bed in the middle and a TV. She shut the door and walked inside to the bed.
"You poor thing." She opened her bed and the kitten happily bounded out. It mewed and leaped playfully around Mireille's legs, rubbing against her high black boots. "Be quiet, please," Mireille begged, but a smile was creeping onto her face. She bent down and scratched the cat behind its ears. It promptly mewed and began rolling on the floor.
"I suppose I ought to give you a name. I wonder if you have one already? Where did you come from?" Mireille asked it playfully. She stood up and stepped into the bathroom to take a hot shower.
When she came out, the kitten was fast asleep, curled up in the center of her bed.
"Oh lovely. I wasn't anticipating having to share my bed with you," Mireille scolded gently, then clambered in beside it. She drew the kitten closer to her and fell fast asleep.
= = = = = = = =
"Mireille."
"Kirika?" A gasp followed. "Kirika."
Kirika said nothing, just stared openly with large miserable eyes at Mireille, who was still standing in the doorway, the door ajar. The clock behind Kirika sounded its deep echoing ring. It was nearly one in the morning.
"Kirika." Mireille tried to find ways to explain. "We're different now. Before, we were bound by the name of Noir, but now." Her voice faltered upon seeing Kirika's unwavering expression. She lowered her head. "We've begun trying to lead normal lives. We've tried to put Altena and Chloe behind us. We."
At the same time, Kirika started, "I-"
Both stopped and looked at the other, waiting for her to continue. It was Kirika who broke the silence. "I miss-being Noir, Mireille."
Mireille gasped. Kirika's expression remained. "How can you say that? Those were some of the darkest days of our lives. We made a living killing people, killing Chloe and Altena-"
"No. I don't miss any of that. But we were closer then. We knew each other. Mireille-I feel like you're a stranger to me now. You're never home and when you are, we don't talk about anything anymore."
The Corsican blonde made no attempt to apologize. "Kirika, when we were Noir, we had to know every aspect of each other's life and be able to read each other's minds. We've left that life behind. We're living like normal people now, people who-"
"Don't need to know each other all that well?" Kirika cut Mireille off for the third time, and this time Mireille detected a bit of anger in her voice.
She didn't want to reply with the word yes. To tell the truth, she was exhausted. She'd worked late at her job as a florist and been stuck in a traffic jam for nearly two hours afterwards. The last thing she wanted was an argument with Kirika.
But Kirika was standing here in front of her, waiting for a reply.
"Yes, I suppose that's what I mean," Mireille said slowly. "I'm not saying we're not friends, Kirika. It's just that we're each leading our own individual lives now and." Her voice trailed off. Kirika stared stonily at her, her eyes never leaving Mireille's crystal blue ones. "I'm exhausted. We can continue this in the morning. I'm going to go to bed now," she said, going up the steps that led to their bed. Behind her, Kirika stood motionless like a crystal in ore that had been standing for thousands of years, but Mireille had never looked back at her. She put on a soft pink nightgown and stretched out on the bed, instantly drifting off to sleep.
The next morning, Kirika was gone.
= = = = = = = =
Mireille awoke to the gentle rays of sunlight dancing across her cheeks. She moaned, then shut her eyes and tried to sleep again. A soft paw with just a touch of claws swept across her face. "Ouch!"
The last images of Kirika faded from her mind. Mireille sat up and rubbed her eyes and groaned. She'd dreamed of her last conversation with Kirika again.
The kitten leaped into her lap and mewed, as if to say, "I still need a name!"
Mireille absentmindedly scratched it behind the ears, still thinking of Kirika. She recalled how Kirika had stood motionless as a crystal, but just at that moment the kitten stood on its hind legs and batted at her hair with its paws.
"Ouch! Okay, okay, stop it, I'll give you a name. I don't even know if you're female or male, but I'll call you Crystal anyway."
It mewed contently.
Mireille smiled and got out of bed, stretching her arms as she did so. Today she'd go to find Kirika's old house.