Disclaimer, ratings, and other legal junk may be retrieved in the first chapter.
Reviewers: Thank you, everyone! It's encouraging to see people writing reviews of decent length and detail, which shows me you actually care about what happens. I'm very grateful, so thank you very much for your time!
Author's Notes:
This story is so unbelievably fun to write that I've been neglecting important duties (e.g. eating, sleeping, studying). As much fun as this is, however, I will have to take a break so that I can focus on my finals. I also need to get back into the rhythm of writing more chapters of my CCS fic, so please don't expect updates too frequently after this. I'll try to post a chapter for one of my stories every other Friday, but once the school year starts, I can't guarantee I'll keep that pace up.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy! ^_^
~ Dark Rune
-= Level Three: Positive ID =-
Let it never be said that Yuumura Kirika didn't have a sense of humor--a particularly evil, twisted sense of humor.
It was unreasonably satisfying for her to stare at the back of Syusuke-kun's head for the duration of the afternoon classes because from her vantage point, she could watch him squirm and count the beads of sweat forming on his neck, just barely visible under his unruly chestnut hair. As the final hour of the school day drew to a close, Syusuke had obviously reached his breaking point; when the sensei called on him, he responded with a catatonic smile. That might have been the first instance that anyone had made Syusuke uncomfortable enough to sweat in an inactive, non-life-threatening situation, and Kirika felt a measure of pride for being the cause of his discomfort.
The Fuji cruelty factor must be rubbing off on me, Kirika decided, inwardly cringing. Except for Yuuta, the sheltered black sheep, the Fujis had been renowned manipulators in the underworld for over a century. Even after they left Soldats, their ruthless exploits had remained legendary, and Syusuke's parents were especially infamous for disposing of their enemies through the most torturous methods imaginable.
I never want to be as terrible as they were, Kirika vowed solemnly, but as quickly as the thought entered her mind, Kirika scolded herself.
It was disrespectful to think ill of the dead.
Besides, the remarkable Fuji family loyalty had balanced out the family's various misdeeds. Kirika remembered how easy it was to work with Syusuke because he always backed her up as if she were family. While they had been nowhere near the level of True Noir now, they had performed with frightening efficiency.
But for all our success, Kirika thought with a sigh, our partnership was doomed from the beginning.
The memory humbled her. She admittedly deserved Syusuke's resentment, but she was ill prepared to handle it. Each time he calmly alluded to the blood bath of five years ago, she felt an imaginary knife in her chest twist with every subtle accusation he threw, pushing the guilt deeper into her heart. He probably knew how much he was hurting her, and he was probably savoring it, but she couldn't blame him. If she had been in his position...
Kirika stopped her train of thought, realizing that she could never truly understand his point of view. She didn't grow up with anyone close enough to call family. She didn't grow up with anyone who cared about her. Her apologies, no matter how sincere, must really be worthless to him. As much as she deserved his hatred, however, Kirika knew she had to stop feeling sorry for herself.
What was it that Mireille had ordered her to say at least twice a day?
"I will be redeemed if I repent..." Kirika muttered under her breath, wincing at the cheesiness of Mireille's well-meaning words. "I will be redeemed if I repent. I will be redeemed if--"
The bell rang.
Startled out of her concentrated chanting, she glanced up at the clock mounted above the blackboard, blinked, then smiled as she realized that the end of school signaled the beginning of club activities.
Syusuke-kun must look different when he's holding a racket, she mused, and her smile grew with the anticipation of watching Syusuke play. While Syusuke could kill with admirable grace and competence, he had never been passionate about assassination. Tennis, on the other hand, was a completely different, completely voluntary chapter of Syusuke's life. Without a doubt, his tennis would be a sight to behold.
"Shall we go, Fuji-kun?" Kirika inquired, picking up her bag and standing next to his desk.
Syusuke seemed to snap out of the daze he'd been in and nodded, amidst the fervent whispers and furtive glances of their classmates. Kirika was glad her semi-ambiguous relationship with Syusuke had scared away students who wanted to introduce themselves to her because she felt no compulsion to meet anyone beyond what was required of her mission.
"Since you're interested in tennis, I'll introduce you to Ryuzaki-sensei," Syusuke said cheerfully, gathering his belongings and walking with her out the door. To anyone else, he must have appeared perfectly composed, even as she smoothly reached for his left hand, but Kirika saw the strain in his smile, felt the light sheen of cold sweat on his fingertips and the crushing force of his grip. Her amusement returned in full despite her somewhat guilty complex.
"I'm actually just considering being the manager of the tennis team," Kirika revealed as they walked down the hallway.
"Really? I thought you wanted to play," Syusuke said, nodding politely at some of his (blatantly staring) acquaintances while tightening his hold on her hand. It was almost as if he were seeking revenge through any amount of pain he could inflict on her.
"I said I was interested in tennis," Kirika pointed out, squeezing his hand in return, "not that I wished to play. Does your team have a manager? According to my sources, Inui-san is doubling as a player and manager."
"That's true," Syusuke admitted, his free hand now twitching, "but Inui likes having control. He won't appreciate someone else rearranging his training schedules. Even Oishi doesn't interfere and usually limits himself to punishing players with laps."
"I think Inui-san could use my help," Kirika insisted, noticing Syusuke's raised eyebrows.
Syusuke didn't respond further, instead guiding her gallantly into the first empty classroom he spotted. But as soon as he closed the door, he practically flung her hand away from his, his smile gone, his open eyes piercing.
"Kirika-chan, you may have saved my life today, but that doesn't absolve you of your sins," he snarled. "You have no right to be in my family."
Kirika was actually relieved.
This was the true face of Fuji Syusuke, someone she found much more interesting--and somehow much safer--than the fake Fuji-san that everyone else knew and unsuspectingly admired. This was the ruthless young man hiding behind the fatally misleading mask of the prodigy. This was the real Syusuke: guilty, unforgiving, cruel, loyal, and driven. Not too long ago, she had admired him for feeling all the things she couldn't.
"I know," Kirika replied simply.
His anger increased. "Don't mock me. I can tolerate your presence in a mission, but I will NOT be bound to you for the rest of my life. I would rather kill you," he growled, his voice bristling with controlled impatience. The drastic change in his attitude probably would have unsettled even Tezuka-san. "Now explain."
As fun as it was toying with Syusuke's emotions, however, it was also dangerous. Kirika noted that his right hand was twitching again, as if he were about to reach across for something on his left hip. She really needed to calm him down before he went on a murderous rampage.
"All right. I will explain," she began, leaning tiredly against a desk. "According to 'Nee-san, I am the daughter of an old friend of your parents. We have been betrothed since we were children so that we would strengthen our respective businesses once we were of age and got married."
"So... our engagement isn't real after all?"
"Of course it isn't," she said, managing to hold back a smile. "Arranged marriages are unnecessary outside of Soldats."
Syusuke released a deep, cleansing breath, looking infinitely relieved. Kirika thought she should feel at least mildly insulted that he was so revolted by the idea of a betrothal to her. "But why do you have such an obvious relation to me?" he asked, and though he appeared more rational than he was a few minutes before, his voice betrayed residual traces of annoyance. "It will attract attention, and that defeats the purpose of having a cover in the first place."
She wondered if he was even aware that he clenched and unclenched his fists when he was seriously irritated. "Yuumura Kirika was originally created by Soldats to be a foolproof identity for their female assassins," Kirika explained, eyeing Syusuke's restless posture warily. "After I left for France, my identity was used often by 'Nee-san's contacts in Kyoto, so now, in conjunction with your name, Yuumura Kirika will undoubtedly attract Soldats' full attention. That distraction will facilitate 'Nee-san's movements inside Soldats."
Perhaps the mention of the danger his sister was in calmed Syusuke down further. When he spoke, his voice had become more coldly professional. "All right, I accept that 'Nee-san might need me as a 'diversion,'" he spat the term with refined disgust, "but there has to be more than that. What else are you not telling me?"
She thought for a moment. "Well..."
"Well what?"
"There's another detail," Kirika said, biting her bottom lip uncertainly. "You might not be too happy about it, but it can't be helped."
"And that is...?"
She sighed. "I will be staying at your house for the duration of the mission."
She was almost sorry to have inflicted the sudden paleness on Syusuke's cheeks. "You're... you're... staying at my house?" he glared, his anger rekindled. "Do you realize how ridiculous that is? Does *'Nee-san* realize how ridiculous that is?"
"Well, would you rather have me guard you from a distance?" she countered calmly. "I'm still required by contract to remain at your side for the next three weeks."
"So what guarantee do I have that you won't strangle me in my sleep over the next three weeks?"
"The same guarantee I have that you won't strangle me in my sleep. This was 'Nee-san's idea, Syusuke-kun," Kirika retorted, her patience growing limited. "In case you've forgotten, I saved your life, and I am bound by my honor and my contract to protect you--"
"Honor?" Syusuke interrupted, his features darkening into a formidable scowl. Apparently, that had been the wrong thing to say to him. "So is that what you felt five years ago, while you were slaughtering the people who--"
But Kirika didn't want to hear his accusations. She couldn't bear them--not now, not when she was trying so hard to make up for everything that she done in her life. "That was FIVE YEARS ago, and it was my duty to Soldats--"
"My family took you in, protected you, trained you, fed you--"
She wanted him to stop, but his accusing eyes seared hers, and his soft voice burned with practiced cruelty. "Your parents were rebels," Kirika retorted stubbornly, "who had the power to destroy the people who gave me the only life I knew--"
"--clothed you, treated you like a second daughter--"
She wanted him to stop, and in spite of her quiet nature, her tone gradually, desperately, escalated with his. "It was my MISSION, and just like you, I had to follow orders--"
"ORDERS!? What happened to loyalty, to family? You were with us for a whole YEAR and--"
"You KNOW as well as I do that knowing someone for a year doesn't mean ANYTHING--"
"YES IT DOES! It meant EVERYTHING to me!"
"You... you NEVER told me anything! How was I supposed to know how you felt if all you ever did was SMILE at me? And even if you HAD told me anything, how could I believe you when I didn't even know how families were supposed to act--"
"EXACTLY! You didn't KNOW. You didn't WANT to know. All you were EVER interested in was the next mission and the next training session, so I don't care if you saved my life! You turned on everyone before and YOU CAN JUST AS WELL TURN ON US AGAIN--"
"People can change--"
"--YOU UNGRATEFUL, EMOTIONLESS--"
"I can..." Kirika paled, the turmoil within her screaming for release. "No..."
"--BACK-STABBING, COLD-BLOODED--"
"Stop!"
"--LYING, RUTHLESS--"
"Please..."
She wasn't emotionless. She wasn't an android. She wasn't a--
"--MURDERER!"
No.
"I'm NOT a murderer!" Kirika shouted at last, her face red, her eyes stinging with unexpected tears as she sank to the floor. "I'm not a murderer... I'm not a... Mireille says... I don't... I don't have to be... after Soldats..."
A heavy silence followed. Syusuke was breathing hard, staring at her with an unreadable expression, but he didn't respond to her outburst, as if she had somehow struck him.
"I'm not here to spy on you or to kill you," she whispered despairingly, turning so that he wouldn't see her blinking her tears away. She couldn't stop her body from shaking, couldn't stop the shivers shooting through her spine and through her heart. "People CAN change, Syusuke-kun. People can change. At least... Let me believe I can..."
For a moment, she thought he might leave, or even try to kill her, as futile as that option might be for him; though he had been a great assassin, even his skill had never been able to match hers. Then again, in her current state, Kirika wouldn't have the will to fight back.
"Gomen, Kirika-chan."
She looked up at him, stunned.
"I had no right to call you that," he continued, his anger gone, and in its place was a listless undercurrent of self-hatred that did not suit him at all. "I... I was just as bad."
He fell silent. After a while, Kirika looked out the windows again, and she noticed that most of the students had already gone home. Syusuke was going to be late for tennis practice.
"We're pathetic, aren't we?" Syusuke chuckled harshly, slumping down against the door. "What was 'Nee-san thinking, assigning you to me? Having us pretend to be betrothed, no less."
Kirika shrugged. "I don't pretend to know exactly what 'Nee-san was thinking, but I do plan on respecting my employer's wishes. I will protect you, regardless of how you treat me."
"Really?" he said, his tone scornful.
"Syusuke-kun, I'm sorry for what I did," she whispered. "Please believe me. If I could bring them back, I would."
"But you can't," he shot back, "so save your apology for something you can actually make up for."
Kirika flinched. She hated the way he looked at her, the condescension in his tone, how he wouldn't even consider forgiving her. She hated his hypocrisy, but most of all, she hated the fact that, in spite of everything, his self-righteous loathing was entirely justified. Regardless of how guilty Syusuke was, Kirika was still ultimately at fault.
But that was the last insult she would bear.
"Fine," Kirika straightened, coming to a sudden, enlightening decision. She would take Mireille's words to heart: redemption through repentance. She hoped Mireille would be proud of her. "I'll give you your vengeance, Syusuke-kun."
His eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"
She took a deep breath, bracing herself mentally. "At the end of these three weeks, you may take my life, and I will not defend myself. I know it won't bring your parents back, but my life is all I have to give, and you can have it."
His mouth dropped open. "You... are you serious?"
"Just as long as you agree to cooperate fully with me on this mission," she added, her resolve growing stronger the more she spoke, "you can do what you wish to me in the end. I will not fight back."
"But... you're still..." he hesitated, seemingly torn between guilt and a need for a long overdue revenge that his sister had denied him. At length, he turned away, his eyes hidden underneath his bangs. "All right. I accept your terms."
"So that's settled, then," she smiled, relieved that she would be able to complete this mission after all. Mireille and 'Nee-san were relying on her. "Are you all right?"
"That's a strange question to ask. Have you forgotten what you just pledged to me?" he smirked, yet his mood seemed to be just as somber as before, if not more so. Syusuke sighed, closing his eyes. "Just promise me something else."
Kirika frowned, wondering what more he could possibly want from her. "What is it?"
"Promise me that you won't interfere with tennis."
She blinked, surprised and more than a little confused. "I don't see how I can give you that..."
"I don't think you understand," he looked at her grimly now, slowly rising to his feet. "Kirika-chan, if you're worth anything as a bodyguard, as Noir, you will not allow your work to interfere with my game. When my team is in the courts, Soldats simply does *not* exist. Soldats *cannot* exist. Do you understand?"
She stared at him, trying to decipher the meaning behind the unyielding seriousness of his gaze, the tension in his back and the line of his jaw. This was a layer of Syusuke that she never knew existed, and it struck her then that, although she knew him better than most people, she only knew what little he had revealed of himself half a decade ago. Her knowledge was nowhere near enough to completely unmask him.
"I promise not to let any harm to come to your friends," she vowed at last.
"No. That's just it. I'm not merely asking for their safety," he declared, his voice growing more intense. "I want you to keep your world entirely separate from mine, Kirika-chan. My parents sacrificed themselves so that 'Nee-san and I could leave this hell behind five years ago, and you will NOT drag my life back into it. 'Nee-san may use my name and my safety to destroy Soldats, but I will not go back."
At that moment, everything clicked into place.
At that moment, Kirika finally understood what Syusuke felt when he played tennis because she realized it was exactly what she felt whenever she poured her heart into her watercolors. Like an artist struck by inspiration, she suddenly couldn't wait to watch Syusuke play.
"I *do* understand, Syusuke-kun," Kirika murmured, meeting his eyes and praying that he could feel her sincerity as much as she felt his pain. "And I promise."
"Are you still interested in being the manager, then?"
She regarded him for a moment. "On second thought," she said slowly, "I think... I think I'll be happier just as a spectator."
He smiled, a genuinely boyish Syusuke smile, and without hesitation, he held his hand out to her. "Good."
Syusuke could be a genuinely nice guy when he chose to be. Perhaps the rest of her life wouldn't be so bad after all.
Ryuzaki Sumire seemed like a very nice lady, but a dropped jaw was unbecoming even on someone as dignified as she was.
"Excuse me?" she blinked, obviously unable to accept that the young man standing in her office was really Syusuke.
"I would like you to meet Yuumura Kirika, my fiancee," Syusuke repeated patiently, and Kirika felt him cringe again through their linked hands.
He had claimed he might need time to become accustomed to referring to Kirika as his future wife, and although Kirika had never been particularly vain, she felt somewhat offended. Really, how repulsive was she that Syusuke needed to "practice" thinking about her in a more positive light?
Ryuzaki-sensei recovered from her shock, rising from her seat to offer a slightly trembling hand out to Syusuke and Kirika. "Congratulations. It's nice to meet you, Yuumura... and I didn't know you were... erm... seeing someone... Fuji."
Syusuke only smiled, accepting the handshake from his tennis coach. "I thought you might want to know. Yuumura-chan will be at practice often, and I didn't want you to be surprised or confused about her presence."
"Oh, I'm not," Ryuzaki-sensei assured him unconvincingly, clutching her chest as if she were having a heart attack. "Don't worry."
"We were childhood friends, and we've been betrothed since we were young," Kirika helpfully supplied as the sensei turned to her to shake her hand.
"Oh, I see," Ryuzaki-sensei nodded, casting a glance at Syusuke as she sat back down, her face now turning quite a lovely shade of blue. Kirika thought to offer the hyperventilating sensei a glass of water, then dropped the idea. Ryuzaki-sensei actually looked as if she could use a few painkillers.
Syusuke smiled on. "We'll go downstairs now. I'm a bit late for practice. Is that all right?"
The tennis coach nodded, then vigorously shook her head, then nodded again. Her communication skills had been apparently reduced to primitive physical gestures and ape-like grunts, so Kirika interpreted the response as an acceptable signal to leave.
Syusuke and Kirika bowed together, and when they turned around and left the office, they had equally wicked expressions on their faces. Of course, to the casual onlooker, Syusuke would appear to be smiling cheerfully and Kirika would seem aloof, but the two of them could see the mischief clearly shining in each other's eyes.
"I had almost forgotten how much fun it was manipulating people other than Yuuta," Syusuke admitted gleefully as they strolled down the empty hallway.
"You were too busy being embarrassed and annoyed to savor people's reactions this morning," Kirika observed, and her small smile would have made Mireille squeal with delight. Mireille always said Kirika should smile more often. "By the way, does the sensei always leave her mouth open like that? Flies are not a healthy part of any diet. Do you think she noticed that she ate one?"
"No, I don't think she did," Syusuke chuckled as they went down a stairwell. As they left the main building and headed towards the locker rooms, Syusuke's expression became more pensive. "As difficult as this mission might be for me, I could actually use it for a bit of entertainment, don't you think?"
Kirika arched an eyebrow. "In what way?"
"Well... first I need your cooperation. And as you are technically employed by the Fuji family, you can't refuse an assignment from me, can you?"
"As long as it pertains to the mission," Kirika answered, "it should be fine..."
"Excellent."
Kirika had to admit that she was slightly unnerved by the ensuing maniacal gleam in Syusuke's eye--but at least it wasn't directed at her. Kirika always pitied the poor soul on the receiving end of the infamous Fuji ruthlessness.
"It's been ten minutes, Oishi," Kikumaru complained, idly flipping his racket around his wrist. "Don't you think we should go outside?"
Oishi shook his head, standing firmly in front of the regulars (minus Kaidoh, who had gone for a jog) in the locker room. "No. We wait for Fuji. We have to get to the bottom of this mystery and have a private discussion with him in here. There is no way I can let this team play when it is obviously not operating at full capacity."
"So how much longer do we have to wait, Captain?" Echizen asked, his voice muffled. He was stretched out lazily on a far bench with the back of his head cushioned on his arms and his cap covering his face. "Some of us want to play tennis sometime today, you know. I don't see how Fuji-senpai's personal affairs have anything to do with tennis."
"All right, Vice-Captain," Oishi conceded. "Just five more minutes, then."
Inui pushed his glasses up his nose. "I wonder..." he murmured ominously.
Momoshiro, who was sitting next to Inui, inched away from his frighteningly observant senpai and turned to everyone else with a bright grin. "So... anyone want to play cards? Winner gets the losers to drink his share of Inui-senpai's vegetable juice."
Only a split-second later, all the regulars (except the bewildered Inui) were sitting in a competitive circle on the floor, playing an unusually violent game of Go Fish.
Fuji and Kirika were only a few hundred paces from the tennis courts when Kirika spotted the black-clad figures darting between the trees behind them. The glint of metal in the figures' hands was anything but reassuring.
"They're back," she announced quietly. "Two at five o'clock, one at six."
He wondered what she was talking about until he realized she was giving him clock face directions. Resisting the urge to turn and look, he clenched his fists, growing worried because quite a few freshman tennis players were too close for his peace of mind. If the assassins started shooting from where they were and missed, the freshmen could all too easily get hit.
Fuji gritted his teeth.
Not tennis. Soldats couldn't ruin tennis, and if they did, he swore he would bomb the offices of every Soldats leader he knew, damn the consequences.
Anything but tennis. Anywhere but the courts.
Quickly, Fuji grabbed Kirika's upper arm and steered them both towards the park just beyond the school. The trees would provide good cover, and they could hunt down these assassins without attracting anyone else's attention. Above all, they would stay away from the tennis courts, which, to Fuji, was all that mattered.
As soon as he and Kirika reached the edge of the forest, a shot flew past Fuji's ear, and both teens automatically dove forward into a bush. A second bullet scraped the bark off the tree next to where they landed, but without breaking a sweat, Fuji and Kirika rolled to their feet and continued sprinting deeper into the forest.
"You brought your gun, didn't you?" Fuji asked, unnecessarily, knowing that Kirika's beloved Beretta M1934 could be considered an extension of her body. "Will you kindly shoot back?"
"Of course," she replied, and glancing back at her, Fuji saw that she had already drawn her weapon and was now very calmly screwing on the silencer as she ran. "We should go back to the school. We'll have a much better view from the roof, and I can cover us both enough to get there."
"No, we won't risk anyone else," Fuji shook his head, leading her towards the lake. "I don't suppose you have an extra gun for me, do you?"
She smiled wryly. "You won't get one until you've gone through target practice again, Syusuke-kun," Kirika said coolly, not flinching when their attackers sent a shot that made Fuji wince instinctively. "Handguns were never your specialty."
With that, she tossed him a small knife, and he rolled his eyes even as another shot engraved itself into a tree behind him. "So how do we get them to stop attacking at school? Didn't you say they wouldn't try anything here?"
"I believe these assassins might have been sent to track me as soon as I arrived from Paris," Kirika said as she and Fuji finally stopped and crouched down with their backs against a large tree. The footsteps of their pursuers were coming from somewhere behind them. "I don't believe Soldats would be so stupid as to kill you at school. Your parents did ensure your safety through their wills."
"Their wills? What do you mean?"
She looked startled for a second. "'Nee-san didn't tell you?"
"Apparently, she didn't tell me a lot of things," Fuji grumbled.
"Your parents had an agreement with Soldats just before they were killed," Kirika explained. "If any of the Fuji children died of unnatural causes, all the information they had on Soldats' leaders would be automatically released by an unknown third party to the authorities. That's why you and Yuuta-kun were relatively safe; Soldats assassins could only attempt to kill you through indirect means. Of course, 'Nee-san protected you from such attacks."
Fuji only stared at her, surprised and even more annoyed at his sister. He had never imagined his parents could be so manipulative even after their deaths, but now that he thought about it...
Could they have purposefully *allowed* themselves to be killed in order to secure their children's futures? For the Fuji family, it made a warped kind of sense.
"The point is," Kirika cut into his chilling thoughts, "if Soldats were going to kill you, they would try it at home, where they can make your death look like an accident. That's why I didn't think they'd have a sniper after you."
"Why would they be after *you* at school, then, if they don't want the attention?"
"I'm Yuumura Kirika," she sighed. "They created me. They probably think they can erase me as well."
Another shot grazed the tree they were using as a shield, and Syusuke kept quiet, watching as Kirika at last made her move to fight. With her back to the tree and her eyes closed, she reached around the trunk with her gun in hand and pointed it somewhere behind her. When the assassins missed yet another shot, Kirika smiled, adjusted the angle of her arm ever so slightly upward, and pulled the trigger.
Not too far away, something heavy collided with the ground in a loud crunch, and Fuji's mouth dropped open in disbelief.
She had actually hit a target.
Behind her.
Without looking.
He shook his head in speechless, wide-eyed awe. He remembered that Kirika was the best killer he'd ever met and that her skills far surpassed everyone else's, but he didn't realize how truly incredible she was until that moment. She had actually *improved* on perfection.
After another missed shot from their attackers, Kirika adjusted her aim again and fired, her eyes still closed. The sound of another body falling to the ground reached their ears, proving to Fuji with finality that the first hit hadn't been some miraculous fluke.
"Kirika-chan..." Fuji whispered, unable to repress his amazement. In spite of how wrong it was to kill someone and how much he hated the life he thought he'd left behind, the part of him that remembered the thrill of the underworld was compelled to compliment her. "You're... you're... unbeliev--"
"Something's wrong," she interjected monotonously, and her eyes flew open. "I missed."
A gentle breeze blew past, and the leaves of the trees rustled in the warm afternoon sun, their shadows playfully shifting on the ground like ocean waves. But there was something off about those shadows.
Out of a sixth sense borne of years of training, the two teens immediately looked up the tree they were leaning against, just in time to see a black-clad man leaping down from a low branch, a knife in his bleeding hand. Although Kirika had obviously hit his gun hand only a minute before, he was still determined to complete his mission.
In that instant, Fuji hated Soldats more than ever for breeding such heartless, murderous robots, and he hated that he had actually been one of those heartless, murderous robots.
The assassin let loose a battle cry as he dove at them, but Kirika reacted quickly. She leaped forward, shoving Fuji out of the way with an outstretched arm while twisting in midair to fire the killing shot with her other hand. Her bullet hit the assassin squarely in the chest as he fell, yet in spite of that, he remained persistent.
"KIRIKA!" Fuji shouted, horrified. Time seemed to slow just enough to amplify the gore; the attacker's knife lodged itself triumphantly in Kirika's upper thigh, and a split-second later, the man landed heavily next to Kirika's injured form and tumbled lifelessly aside.
Kirika uttered a small cry and gritted her teeth as she lay on her back, her weapon slipping out of her hand when she reached down to clutch at her injury. Fuji tried not to let the involuntary tears in her eyes and the large blade in her leg bother him, but he couldn't help but feel responsible.
Why hadn't he seen that assassin above them? All he had to do was watch for possible holes in their defenses, and he hadn't even done it right. He needed training.
Damn 'Nee-san for not telling me sooner, he fumed as he bent over Kirika's form and gently shook the young woman's shoulders. "Kirika-chan," he whispered. "Are you all right?"
Through clenched teeth, she answered, "Don't let your guard down. There's one more..."
All right, Fuji thought darkly. I haven't forgotten how to fight. I can take care of the last one.
Deftly, he flipped the knife in his fingers to a throwing position, but before he could move again, Kirika's gun was already in her hand, and she reached over Fuji's shoulders, pulling him flush against her. With his face pressed into her collarbone, Fuji blushed furiously, almost dropping his knife.
"Don't move," she ordered. "We're hidden well enough in the grass."
When she fired, he didn't even feel the gun recoil, and a heartbeat later, the third and final assassin collapsed against a tree a short distance away, having caught a bullet in his temple just as he was reloading his weapon.
Kirika never even had to reload hers.
Abruptly, Fuji realized that there was, in fact, simple logic in his sister's seemingly illogical decision to hire Kirika, and that logic nullified every argument he could possibly create against her.
Simply put, Fuji Yumiko had called Kirika back to Japan because regardless of the girl's history, regardless of her personality, and regardless of how the Fujis felt about her, Yuumura Kirika was, without a shadow of a doubt, the ultimate assassin.
Kaidoh Kaoru had always been very private whenever it came to his personal life. He knew he wasn't one of the best-looking guys, like Tezuka-senpai, whose perpetually swooning fanclub had almost committed ritual suicide when he left for New York. In addition, Kaidoh didn't delude himself into thinking he was perfect husband material, like Oishi-senpai, whose devotion to his girlfriend sickened the rest of the male population and made the members of the now-disbanded Oishi fanclub sigh longingly each time Oishi strode past. Kaidoh also didn't fancy himself as the most fun, most approachable person, like Kikumaru-senpai, who had no shortage of "friends who were girls" and had a new girl hanging off his arm each month.
In spite of his perceived shortcomings, Kaidoh at least knew he was more honest and caring than that stupid, loud-mouthed, uncivilized Momoshiro. Kaidoh also liked to think that he was as gallant towards women (foreign, distant objects that they were) as Fuji-senpai, who treated members of the fairer sex with utmost respect.
But therein lay a problem.
Given what the tennis team had witnessed at lunch, just how wonderful *was* Fuji-senpai, really?
Kaidoh had long admired him for being a widely adored school figure who abstained from women, though he was famous enough to have a fanclub like Tezuka, Oishi, and Echizen. Kaidoh had always assumed Fuji-senpai never dated because he was so focused on tennis, and there was nothing Kaidoh admired more than single-minded determination.
Maybe Fuji-senpai's image was just too good to be true, Kaidoh concluded sadly as he jogged around the tennis courts. Well, at least what the team had seen at lunch completely invalidated rumors circulating last year about Fuji-senpai being involved with both his younger brother *and* Tezuka-senpai. Kaidoh couldn't suppress a shudder at the memory, followed immediately by an overwhelming urge to throw up.
He shook his head.
In truth, everyone only *thought* they knew Fuji-senpai, believing he was the friendly neighborhood tennis prodigy, but even though Kaidoh looked up to him, he had also never trusted people who smiled all the time. No one could possibly keep up a smile for that long without hurting their cheeks; one would have to be inhuman. Those contrasting feelings of respect and suspicion made Kaidoh's head spin, so as much as Kaidoh admired Fuji-senpai, part of him was glad to know that Fuji-senpai was not the perfect prodigy that everyone believed him to be.
Kaidoh sighed as he passed the locker room again on his ninth lap around the courts. The other regulars hadn't emerged yet, probably still debating about Fuji-senpai's relationship with the new girl, so Kaidoh was glad he had escaped the locker room early enough to avoid the embarrassing theories floating around. Unfortunately, the non-regulars milling about outside were starting to look worried, especially since Ryuzaki-sensei seemed to have neglected to show up. Kaidoh sighed again. As the only regular who was thinking rationally, he would have to take responsibility.
One more lap, he decided, and I'll go in and fetch the others.
Instead of turning left to go around the tennis courts, however, Kaidoh turned right into the park behind the school for a change of scenery; responsibility could afford to wait a bit longer. Kaidoh liked nature in general, and cute animals in particular, and that was the side of him he wouldn't dare show anyone lest his tough, manly, anti-social reputation be shattered. Besides, that stupid Momoshiro would probably make fun of him if he knew his weakness for fluffy woodland creatures.
Kaidoh glowered, thoughts of his rival fueling his drive to become a better athlete. That clown Momoshiro couldn't run five laps without running out of breath. Kaidoh, on the other hand, prided himself on having the endurance of a marathon runner, so he decided to go an extra kilometer around the lake.
Really, responsibility could wait.
He would show that obnoxious, hot-tempered, talent-deficient buffoon who was the better player at the next ranking tournament. He'd make sure Ryuzaki-sensei placed them in the same block this time... At that point, Kaidoh's thoughts degenerated into various imagined scenes involving him crushing Momoshiro in straight sets. Of course, all the scenes also somehow involved Momoshiro wailing like a baby while Kaidoh towered over him, laughing. Kaidoh smiled blissfully.
Halfway around the lake, however, his concentration broke when he heard unusual noises coming from somewhere in the forest. Slowing his pace, Kaidoh peered through the foliage suspiciously until he was startled to a halt by someone's faint gasp.
A woman in distress?
Kaidoh hissed. He was actually quite a chivalrous man (if only women would stop running from him, he lamented, blushing vehemently), so his knight-in-shining-armor instincts came alive in an instant. Cautiously, he edged towards where he thought this damsel in distress must be, his senses on high alert, his muscles ready to lash out at the evildoer who would dare harm a lady. As he drew perilously closer to the trees, he heard the woman gasp again. Kaidoh hesitated, but then stopped in his tracks because the woman's gasping was followed by a very familiar male voice speaking in a low, concerned tone.
"Gomen," Fuji-senpai's silky tenor came clearly from behind the trees, and Kaidoh froze. "Did I hurt you? Should I stop?"
"Iie..." came the female's equally gentle response. "I was just... surprised. It's just that... I didn't realize it was so big... and it's in deep."
Fuji-senpai's chuckle lilted through the trees like a happy tune. Kaidoh was reminded of a certain nursery rhyme children sang--which happened to be about the Black Plague. Kaidoh turned green.
"Gomen," Fuji-senpai spoke again. "As much as I'm enjoying your suffering, this is my fault. Should I pull it out slowly?"
"I'll be fine," the woman insisted, and Kaidoh finally recognized who Fuji-senpai was talking to. "Just do it all at once."
It was that... that...
Yuumura-senpai.
Kaidoh stumbled backwards, wide-eyed and choking for air.
It was Yuumura-senpai. And Fuji-senpai. Alone. In the woods.
"This will hurt for a few seconds," Fuji-senpai murmured apologetically, "but I promise it will feel much better in no time."
Kaidoh swallowed hard, his mind spiraling into horrified panic. No no no no no no no... Fuji-senpai... he wouldn't... not Fuji-senpai...
"I trust I'll be able to walk again after this, Syusuke-kun," Yuumura-senpai said breathily.
"Of course. I never disappoint."
The thin thread of hope keeping Fuji-senpai's image together in Kaidoh's mind snapped, and Kaidoh was suddenly no longer sweating because of his run. He was suddenly no longer interested in hearing more of this obviously VERY private conversation because if he heard any more, his ears would bleed.
Unable to contain himself, Kaidoh screamed.
"IYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!"
The Viper executed a perfect, 180-degree pivot and fled, traumatized, mortified, befuddled, frightened, tongue-tied, and blushing something terrible. He was yelling all the way on his record-smashing sprint to the locker room.
"...YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA..."
Fuji looked up from his task of wrapping Kirika's wound with his torn shirt sleeve. Her leg wasn't a pretty sight, as he had just pulled out the offending blade embedded in the flesh of her right thigh. Still, he noticed Kirika opening her eyes against the pain, struck by curiosity and paranoia as well, because the frighteningly inhuman shriek echoing through the woods was loud enough to shatter eardrums.
"What *is* that?" Kirika asked, tensing as she surveyed their surroundings for more assassins.
"I don't know," Fuji answered, rising to his feet and frowning in the direction of the scream. "It sounded close..."
"But it seems as if it's drifting farther away, towards the tennis courts, perhaps," Kirika remarked, and indeed she was right. The anguished cry was fading.
"Well then," Fuji smiled, visibly relaxing and crouching back down next to her, "I wouldn't be too surprised if that was the dying call of one of the freshmen tasting Inui's Super Special Deluxe Original Juice Remix Mach 7. Have I told you about Inui's vegetable juice, Kirika-chan?"
Kirika actually beamed slightly, despite the pain of her wound. "I did some research before coming to Japan, Syusuke-kun. I know Inui-san's recipes, and I've tried them myself."
"Really?" Fuji's eyes lit up even as he bandaged her leg. "So don't you agree that they're quite delicious?"
"Mireille was hospitalized for two days," Kirika replied. "She refused to speak to me for a week."
"Hm. I wonder why," Fuji mused absently. "Did you say something mean to her?"
Kirika shrugged. "Maybe."
"Well, if you make those vegetable drinks for me every day, I'll forgive you for intruding on my home."
Kirika's smile grew. Did she even have to think about the offer?
"Deal."
-= End Chapter Three =-
Chapter Started: July 22, 2003
Chapter Finished: August 1, 2003
In the Next Chapter:
- Kaidoh reports.
- Yuuta finds out.
- Kirika tracks.
- Syusuke trains.
Please, please review and/or send all comments (however bad, good, long, or short) to me at rune_dreaming@yahoo.com! Your feedback is very much appreciated!
Copyright (C) 2003 by Dark Rune. All rights reserved.
Reviewers: Thank you, everyone! It's encouraging to see people writing reviews of decent length and detail, which shows me you actually care about what happens. I'm very grateful, so thank you very much for your time!
Author's Notes:
This story is so unbelievably fun to write that I've been neglecting important duties (e.g. eating, sleeping, studying). As much fun as this is, however, I will have to take a break so that I can focus on my finals. I also need to get back into the rhythm of writing more chapters of my CCS fic, so please don't expect updates too frequently after this. I'll try to post a chapter for one of my stories every other Friday, but once the school year starts, I can't guarantee I'll keep that pace up.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy! ^_^
~ Dark Rune
-= Level Three: Positive ID =-
Let it never be said that Yuumura Kirika didn't have a sense of humor--a particularly evil, twisted sense of humor.
It was unreasonably satisfying for her to stare at the back of Syusuke-kun's head for the duration of the afternoon classes because from her vantage point, she could watch him squirm and count the beads of sweat forming on his neck, just barely visible under his unruly chestnut hair. As the final hour of the school day drew to a close, Syusuke had obviously reached his breaking point; when the sensei called on him, he responded with a catatonic smile. That might have been the first instance that anyone had made Syusuke uncomfortable enough to sweat in an inactive, non-life-threatening situation, and Kirika felt a measure of pride for being the cause of his discomfort.
The Fuji cruelty factor must be rubbing off on me, Kirika decided, inwardly cringing. Except for Yuuta, the sheltered black sheep, the Fujis had been renowned manipulators in the underworld for over a century. Even after they left Soldats, their ruthless exploits had remained legendary, and Syusuke's parents were especially infamous for disposing of their enemies through the most torturous methods imaginable.
I never want to be as terrible as they were, Kirika vowed solemnly, but as quickly as the thought entered her mind, Kirika scolded herself.
It was disrespectful to think ill of the dead.
Besides, the remarkable Fuji family loyalty had balanced out the family's various misdeeds. Kirika remembered how easy it was to work with Syusuke because he always backed her up as if she were family. While they had been nowhere near the level of True Noir now, they had performed with frightening efficiency.
But for all our success, Kirika thought with a sigh, our partnership was doomed from the beginning.
The memory humbled her. She admittedly deserved Syusuke's resentment, but she was ill prepared to handle it. Each time he calmly alluded to the blood bath of five years ago, she felt an imaginary knife in her chest twist with every subtle accusation he threw, pushing the guilt deeper into her heart. He probably knew how much he was hurting her, and he was probably savoring it, but she couldn't blame him. If she had been in his position...
Kirika stopped her train of thought, realizing that she could never truly understand his point of view. She didn't grow up with anyone close enough to call family. She didn't grow up with anyone who cared about her. Her apologies, no matter how sincere, must really be worthless to him. As much as she deserved his hatred, however, Kirika knew she had to stop feeling sorry for herself.
What was it that Mireille had ordered her to say at least twice a day?
"I will be redeemed if I repent..." Kirika muttered under her breath, wincing at the cheesiness of Mireille's well-meaning words. "I will be redeemed if I repent. I will be redeemed if--"
The bell rang.
Startled out of her concentrated chanting, she glanced up at the clock mounted above the blackboard, blinked, then smiled as she realized that the end of school signaled the beginning of club activities.
Syusuke-kun must look different when he's holding a racket, she mused, and her smile grew with the anticipation of watching Syusuke play. While Syusuke could kill with admirable grace and competence, he had never been passionate about assassination. Tennis, on the other hand, was a completely different, completely voluntary chapter of Syusuke's life. Without a doubt, his tennis would be a sight to behold.
"Shall we go, Fuji-kun?" Kirika inquired, picking up her bag and standing next to his desk.
Syusuke seemed to snap out of the daze he'd been in and nodded, amidst the fervent whispers and furtive glances of their classmates. Kirika was glad her semi-ambiguous relationship with Syusuke had scared away students who wanted to introduce themselves to her because she felt no compulsion to meet anyone beyond what was required of her mission.
"Since you're interested in tennis, I'll introduce you to Ryuzaki-sensei," Syusuke said cheerfully, gathering his belongings and walking with her out the door. To anyone else, he must have appeared perfectly composed, even as she smoothly reached for his left hand, but Kirika saw the strain in his smile, felt the light sheen of cold sweat on his fingertips and the crushing force of his grip. Her amusement returned in full despite her somewhat guilty complex.
"I'm actually just considering being the manager of the tennis team," Kirika revealed as they walked down the hallway.
"Really? I thought you wanted to play," Syusuke said, nodding politely at some of his (blatantly staring) acquaintances while tightening his hold on her hand. It was almost as if he were seeking revenge through any amount of pain he could inflict on her.
"I said I was interested in tennis," Kirika pointed out, squeezing his hand in return, "not that I wished to play. Does your team have a manager? According to my sources, Inui-san is doubling as a player and manager."
"That's true," Syusuke admitted, his free hand now twitching, "but Inui likes having control. He won't appreciate someone else rearranging his training schedules. Even Oishi doesn't interfere and usually limits himself to punishing players with laps."
"I think Inui-san could use my help," Kirika insisted, noticing Syusuke's raised eyebrows.
Syusuke didn't respond further, instead guiding her gallantly into the first empty classroom he spotted. But as soon as he closed the door, he practically flung her hand away from his, his smile gone, his open eyes piercing.
"Kirika-chan, you may have saved my life today, but that doesn't absolve you of your sins," he snarled. "You have no right to be in my family."
Kirika was actually relieved.
This was the true face of Fuji Syusuke, someone she found much more interesting--and somehow much safer--than the fake Fuji-san that everyone else knew and unsuspectingly admired. This was the ruthless young man hiding behind the fatally misleading mask of the prodigy. This was the real Syusuke: guilty, unforgiving, cruel, loyal, and driven. Not too long ago, she had admired him for feeling all the things she couldn't.
"I know," Kirika replied simply.
His anger increased. "Don't mock me. I can tolerate your presence in a mission, but I will NOT be bound to you for the rest of my life. I would rather kill you," he growled, his voice bristling with controlled impatience. The drastic change in his attitude probably would have unsettled even Tezuka-san. "Now explain."
As fun as it was toying with Syusuke's emotions, however, it was also dangerous. Kirika noted that his right hand was twitching again, as if he were about to reach across for something on his left hip. She really needed to calm him down before he went on a murderous rampage.
"All right. I will explain," she began, leaning tiredly against a desk. "According to 'Nee-san, I am the daughter of an old friend of your parents. We have been betrothed since we were children so that we would strengthen our respective businesses once we were of age and got married."
"So... our engagement isn't real after all?"
"Of course it isn't," she said, managing to hold back a smile. "Arranged marriages are unnecessary outside of Soldats."
Syusuke released a deep, cleansing breath, looking infinitely relieved. Kirika thought she should feel at least mildly insulted that he was so revolted by the idea of a betrothal to her. "But why do you have such an obvious relation to me?" he asked, and though he appeared more rational than he was a few minutes before, his voice betrayed residual traces of annoyance. "It will attract attention, and that defeats the purpose of having a cover in the first place."
She wondered if he was even aware that he clenched and unclenched his fists when he was seriously irritated. "Yuumura Kirika was originally created by Soldats to be a foolproof identity for their female assassins," Kirika explained, eyeing Syusuke's restless posture warily. "After I left for France, my identity was used often by 'Nee-san's contacts in Kyoto, so now, in conjunction with your name, Yuumura Kirika will undoubtedly attract Soldats' full attention. That distraction will facilitate 'Nee-san's movements inside Soldats."
Perhaps the mention of the danger his sister was in calmed Syusuke down further. When he spoke, his voice had become more coldly professional. "All right, I accept that 'Nee-san might need me as a 'diversion,'" he spat the term with refined disgust, "but there has to be more than that. What else are you not telling me?"
She thought for a moment. "Well..."
"Well what?"
"There's another detail," Kirika said, biting her bottom lip uncertainly. "You might not be too happy about it, but it can't be helped."
"And that is...?"
She sighed. "I will be staying at your house for the duration of the mission."
She was almost sorry to have inflicted the sudden paleness on Syusuke's cheeks. "You're... you're... staying at my house?" he glared, his anger rekindled. "Do you realize how ridiculous that is? Does *'Nee-san* realize how ridiculous that is?"
"Well, would you rather have me guard you from a distance?" she countered calmly. "I'm still required by contract to remain at your side for the next three weeks."
"So what guarantee do I have that you won't strangle me in my sleep over the next three weeks?"
"The same guarantee I have that you won't strangle me in my sleep. This was 'Nee-san's idea, Syusuke-kun," Kirika retorted, her patience growing limited. "In case you've forgotten, I saved your life, and I am bound by my honor and my contract to protect you--"
"Honor?" Syusuke interrupted, his features darkening into a formidable scowl. Apparently, that had been the wrong thing to say to him. "So is that what you felt five years ago, while you were slaughtering the people who--"
But Kirika didn't want to hear his accusations. She couldn't bear them--not now, not when she was trying so hard to make up for everything that she done in her life. "That was FIVE YEARS ago, and it was my duty to Soldats--"
"My family took you in, protected you, trained you, fed you--"
She wanted him to stop, but his accusing eyes seared hers, and his soft voice burned with practiced cruelty. "Your parents were rebels," Kirika retorted stubbornly, "who had the power to destroy the people who gave me the only life I knew--"
"--clothed you, treated you like a second daughter--"
She wanted him to stop, and in spite of her quiet nature, her tone gradually, desperately, escalated with his. "It was my MISSION, and just like you, I had to follow orders--"
"ORDERS!? What happened to loyalty, to family? You were with us for a whole YEAR and--"
"You KNOW as well as I do that knowing someone for a year doesn't mean ANYTHING--"
"YES IT DOES! It meant EVERYTHING to me!"
"You... you NEVER told me anything! How was I supposed to know how you felt if all you ever did was SMILE at me? And even if you HAD told me anything, how could I believe you when I didn't even know how families were supposed to act--"
"EXACTLY! You didn't KNOW. You didn't WANT to know. All you were EVER interested in was the next mission and the next training session, so I don't care if you saved my life! You turned on everyone before and YOU CAN JUST AS WELL TURN ON US AGAIN--"
"People can change--"
"--YOU UNGRATEFUL, EMOTIONLESS--"
"I can..." Kirika paled, the turmoil within her screaming for release. "No..."
"--BACK-STABBING, COLD-BLOODED--"
"Stop!"
"--LYING, RUTHLESS--"
"Please..."
She wasn't emotionless. She wasn't an android. She wasn't a--
"--MURDERER!"
No.
"I'm NOT a murderer!" Kirika shouted at last, her face red, her eyes stinging with unexpected tears as she sank to the floor. "I'm not a murderer... I'm not a... Mireille says... I don't... I don't have to be... after Soldats..."
A heavy silence followed. Syusuke was breathing hard, staring at her with an unreadable expression, but he didn't respond to her outburst, as if she had somehow struck him.
"I'm not here to spy on you or to kill you," she whispered despairingly, turning so that he wouldn't see her blinking her tears away. She couldn't stop her body from shaking, couldn't stop the shivers shooting through her spine and through her heart. "People CAN change, Syusuke-kun. People can change. At least... Let me believe I can..."
For a moment, she thought he might leave, or even try to kill her, as futile as that option might be for him; though he had been a great assassin, even his skill had never been able to match hers. Then again, in her current state, Kirika wouldn't have the will to fight back.
"Gomen, Kirika-chan."
She looked up at him, stunned.
"I had no right to call you that," he continued, his anger gone, and in its place was a listless undercurrent of self-hatred that did not suit him at all. "I... I was just as bad."
He fell silent. After a while, Kirika looked out the windows again, and she noticed that most of the students had already gone home. Syusuke was going to be late for tennis practice.
"We're pathetic, aren't we?" Syusuke chuckled harshly, slumping down against the door. "What was 'Nee-san thinking, assigning you to me? Having us pretend to be betrothed, no less."
Kirika shrugged. "I don't pretend to know exactly what 'Nee-san was thinking, but I do plan on respecting my employer's wishes. I will protect you, regardless of how you treat me."
"Really?" he said, his tone scornful.
"Syusuke-kun, I'm sorry for what I did," she whispered. "Please believe me. If I could bring them back, I would."
"But you can't," he shot back, "so save your apology for something you can actually make up for."
Kirika flinched. She hated the way he looked at her, the condescension in his tone, how he wouldn't even consider forgiving her. She hated his hypocrisy, but most of all, she hated the fact that, in spite of everything, his self-righteous loathing was entirely justified. Regardless of how guilty Syusuke was, Kirika was still ultimately at fault.
But that was the last insult she would bear.
"Fine," Kirika straightened, coming to a sudden, enlightening decision. She would take Mireille's words to heart: redemption through repentance. She hoped Mireille would be proud of her. "I'll give you your vengeance, Syusuke-kun."
His eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"
She took a deep breath, bracing herself mentally. "At the end of these three weeks, you may take my life, and I will not defend myself. I know it won't bring your parents back, but my life is all I have to give, and you can have it."
His mouth dropped open. "You... are you serious?"
"Just as long as you agree to cooperate fully with me on this mission," she added, her resolve growing stronger the more she spoke, "you can do what you wish to me in the end. I will not fight back."
"But... you're still..." he hesitated, seemingly torn between guilt and a need for a long overdue revenge that his sister had denied him. At length, he turned away, his eyes hidden underneath his bangs. "All right. I accept your terms."
"So that's settled, then," she smiled, relieved that she would be able to complete this mission after all. Mireille and 'Nee-san were relying on her. "Are you all right?"
"That's a strange question to ask. Have you forgotten what you just pledged to me?" he smirked, yet his mood seemed to be just as somber as before, if not more so. Syusuke sighed, closing his eyes. "Just promise me something else."
Kirika frowned, wondering what more he could possibly want from her. "What is it?"
"Promise me that you won't interfere with tennis."
She blinked, surprised and more than a little confused. "I don't see how I can give you that..."
"I don't think you understand," he looked at her grimly now, slowly rising to his feet. "Kirika-chan, if you're worth anything as a bodyguard, as Noir, you will not allow your work to interfere with my game. When my team is in the courts, Soldats simply does *not* exist. Soldats *cannot* exist. Do you understand?"
She stared at him, trying to decipher the meaning behind the unyielding seriousness of his gaze, the tension in his back and the line of his jaw. This was a layer of Syusuke that she never knew existed, and it struck her then that, although she knew him better than most people, she only knew what little he had revealed of himself half a decade ago. Her knowledge was nowhere near enough to completely unmask him.
"I promise not to let any harm to come to your friends," she vowed at last.
"No. That's just it. I'm not merely asking for their safety," he declared, his voice growing more intense. "I want you to keep your world entirely separate from mine, Kirika-chan. My parents sacrificed themselves so that 'Nee-san and I could leave this hell behind five years ago, and you will NOT drag my life back into it. 'Nee-san may use my name and my safety to destroy Soldats, but I will not go back."
At that moment, everything clicked into place.
At that moment, Kirika finally understood what Syusuke felt when he played tennis because she realized it was exactly what she felt whenever she poured her heart into her watercolors. Like an artist struck by inspiration, she suddenly couldn't wait to watch Syusuke play.
"I *do* understand, Syusuke-kun," Kirika murmured, meeting his eyes and praying that he could feel her sincerity as much as she felt his pain. "And I promise."
"Are you still interested in being the manager, then?"
She regarded him for a moment. "On second thought," she said slowly, "I think... I think I'll be happier just as a spectator."
He smiled, a genuinely boyish Syusuke smile, and without hesitation, he held his hand out to her. "Good."
Syusuke could be a genuinely nice guy when he chose to be. Perhaps the rest of her life wouldn't be so bad after all.
Ryuzaki Sumire seemed like a very nice lady, but a dropped jaw was unbecoming even on someone as dignified as she was.
"Excuse me?" she blinked, obviously unable to accept that the young man standing in her office was really Syusuke.
"I would like you to meet Yuumura Kirika, my fiancee," Syusuke repeated patiently, and Kirika felt him cringe again through their linked hands.
He had claimed he might need time to become accustomed to referring to Kirika as his future wife, and although Kirika had never been particularly vain, she felt somewhat offended. Really, how repulsive was she that Syusuke needed to "practice" thinking about her in a more positive light?
Ryuzaki-sensei recovered from her shock, rising from her seat to offer a slightly trembling hand out to Syusuke and Kirika. "Congratulations. It's nice to meet you, Yuumura... and I didn't know you were... erm... seeing someone... Fuji."
Syusuke only smiled, accepting the handshake from his tennis coach. "I thought you might want to know. Yuumura-chan will be at practice often, and I didn't want you to be surprised or confused about her presence."
"Oh, I'm not," Ryuzaki-sensei assured him unconvincingly, clutching her chest as if she were having a heart attack. "Don't worry."
"We were childhood friends, and we've been betrothed since we were young," Kirika helpfully supplied as the sensei turned to her to shake her hand.
"Oh, I see," Ryuzaki-sensei nodded, casting a glance at Syusuke as she sat back down, her face now turning quite a lovely shade of blue. Kirika thought to offer the hyperventilating sensei a glass of water, then dropped the idea. Ryuzaki-sensei actually looked as if she could use a few painkillers.
Syusuke smiled on. "We'll go downstairs now. I'm a bit late for practice. Is that all right?"
The tennis coach nodded, then vigorously shook her head, then nodded again. Her communication skills had been apparently reduced to primitive physical gestures and ape-like grunts, so Kirika interpreted the response as an acceptable signal to leave.
Syusuke and Kirika bowed together, and when they turned around and left the office, they had equally wicked expressions on their faces. Of course, to the casual onlooker, Syusuke would appear to be smiling cheerfully and Kirika would seem aloof, but the two of them could see the mischief clearly shining in each other's eyes.
"I had almost forgotten how much fun it was manipulating people other than Yuuta," Syusuke admitted gleefully as they strolled down the empty hallway.
"You were too busy being embarrassed and annoyed to savor people's reactions this morning," Kirika observed, and her small smile would have made Mireille squeal with delight. Mireille always said Kirika should smile more often. "By the way, does the sensei always leave her mouth open like that? Flies are not a healthy part of any diet. Do you think she noticed that she ate one?"
"No, I don't think she did," Syusuke chuckled as they went down a stairwell. As they left the main building and headed towards the locker rooms, Syusuke's expression became more pensive. "As difficult as this mission might be for me, I could actually use it for a bit of entertainment, don't you think?"
Kirika arched an eyebrow. "In what way?"
"Well... first I need your cooperation. And as you are technically employed by the Fuji family, you can't refuse an assignment from me, can you?"
"As long as it pertains to the mission," Kirika answered, "it should be fine..."
"Excellent."
Kirika had to admit that she was slightly unnerved by the ensuing maniacal gleam in Syusuke's eye--but at least it wasn't directed at her. Kirika always pitied the poor soul on the receiving end of the infamous Fuji ruthlessness.
"It's been ten minutes, Oishi," Kikumaru complained, idly flipping his racket around his wrist. "Don't you think we should go outside?"
Oishi shook his head, standing firmly in front of the regulars (minus Kaidoh, who had gone for a jog) in the locker room. "No. We wait for Fuji. We have to get to the bottom of this mystery and have a private discussion with him in here. There is no way I can let this team play when it is obviously not operating at full capacity."
"So how much longer do we have to wait, Captain?" Echizen asked, his voice muffled. He was stretched out lazily on a far bench with the back of his head cushioned on his arms and his cap covering his face. "Some of us want to play tennis sometime today, you know. I don't see how Fuji-senpai's personal affairs have anything to do with tennis."
"All right, Vice-Captain," Oishi conceded. "Just five more minutes, then."
Inui pushed his glasses up his nose. "I wonder..." he murmured ominously.
Momoshiro, who was sitting next to Inui, inched away from his frighteningly observant senpai and turned to everyone else with a bright grin. "So... anyone want to play cards? Winner gets the losers to drink his share of Inui-senpai's vegetable juice."
Only a split-second later, all the regulars (except the bewildered Inui) were sitting in a competitive circle on the floor, playing an unusually violent game of Go Fish.
Fuji and Kirika were only a few hundred paces from the tennis courts when Kirika spotted the black-clad figures darting between the trees behind them. The glint of metal in the figures' hands was anything but reassuring.
"They're back," she announced quietly. "Two at five o'clock, one at six."
He wondered what she was talking about until he realized she was giving him clock face directions. Resisting the urge to turn and look, he clenched his fists, growing worried because quite a few freshman tennis players were too close for his peace of mind. If the assassins started shooting from where they were and missed, the freshmen could all too easily get hit.
Fuji gritted his teeth.
Not tennis. Soldats couldn't ruin tennis, and if they did, he swore he would bomb the offices of every Soldats leader he knew, damn the consequences.
Anything but tennis. Anywhere but the courts.
Quickly, Fuji grabbed Kirika's upper arm and steered them both towards the park just beyond the school. The trees would provide good cover, and they could hunt down these assassins without attracting anyone else's attention. Above all, they would stay away from the tennis courts, which, to Fuji, was all that mattered.
As soon as he and Kirika reached the edge of the forest, a shot flew past Fuji's ear, and both teens automatically dove forward into a bush. A second bullet scraped the bark off the tree next to where they landed, but without breaking a sweat, Fuji and Kirika rolled to their feet and continued sprinting deeper into the forest.
"You brought your gun, didn't you?" Fuji asked, unnecessarily, knowing that Kirika's beloved Beretta M1934 could be considered an extension of her body. "Will you kindly shoot back?"
"Of course," she replied, and glancing back at her, Fuji saw that she had already drawn her weapon and was now very calmly screwing on the silencer as she ran. "We should go back to the school. We'll have a much better view from the roof, and I can cover us both enough to get there."
"No, we won't risk anyone else," Fuji shook his head, leading her towards the lake. "I don't suppose you have an extra gun for me, do you?"
She smiled wryly. "You won't get one until you've gone through target practice again, Syusuke-kun," Kirika said coolly, not flinching when their attackers sent a shot that made Fuji wince instinctively. "Handguns were never your specialty."
With that, she tossed him a small knife, and he rolled his eyes even as another shot engraved itself into a tree behind him. "So how do we get them to stop attacking at school? Didn't you say they wouldn't try anything here?"
"I believe these assassins might have been sent to track me as soon as I arrived from Paris," Kirika said as she and Fuji finally stopped and crouched down with their backs against a large tree. The footsteps of their pursuers were coming from somewhere behind them. "I don't believe Soldats would be so stupid as to kill you at school. Your parents did ensure your safety through their wills."
"Their wills? What do you mean?"
She looked startled for a second. "'Nee-san didn't tell you?"
"Apparently, she didn't tell me a lot of things," Fuji grumbled.
"Your parents had an agreement with Soldats just before they were killed," Kirika explained. "If any of the Fuji children died of unnatural causes, all the information they had on Soldats' leaders would be automatically released by an unknown third party to the authorities. That's why you and Yuuta-kun were relatively safe; Soldats assassins could only attempt to kill you through indirect means. Of course, 'Nee-san protected you from such attacks."
Fuji only stared at her, surprised and even more annoyed at his sister. He had never imagined his parents could be so manipulative even after their deaths, but now that he thought about it...
Could they have purposefully *allowed* themselves to be killed in order to secure their children's futures? For the Fuji family, it made a warped kind of sense.
"The point is," Kirika cut into his chilling thoughts, "if Soldats were going to kill you, they would try it at home, where they can make your death look like an accident. That's why I didn't think they'd have a sniper after you."
"Why would they be after *you* at school, then, if they don't want the attention?"
"I'm Yuumura Kirika," she sighed. "They created me. They probably think they can erase me as well."
Another shot grazed the tree they were using as a shield, and Syusuke kept quiet, watching as Kirika at last made her move to fight. With her back to the tree and her eyes closed, she reached around the trunk with her gun in hand and pointed it somewhere behind her. When the assassins missed yet another shot, Kirika smiled, adjusted the angle of her arm ever so slightly upward, and pulled the trigger.
Not too far away, something heavy collided with the ground in a loud crunch, and Fuji's mouth dropped open in disbelief.
She had actually hit a target.
Behind her.
Without looking.
He shook his head in speechless, wide-eyed awe. He remembered that Kirika was the best killer he'd ever met and that her skills far surpassed everyone else's, but he didn't realize how truly incredible she was until that moment. She had actually *improved* on perfection.
After another missed shot from their attackers, Kirika adjusted her aim again and fired, her eyes still closed. The sound of another body falling to the ground reached their ears, proving to Fuji with finality that the first hit hadn't been some miraculous fluke.
"Kirika-chan..." Fuji whispered, unable to repress his amazement. In spite of how wrong it was to kill someone and how much he hated the life he thought he'd left behind, the part of him that remembered the thrill of the underworld was compelled to compliment her. "You're... you're... unbeliev--"
"Something's wrong," she interjected monotonously, and her eyes flew open. "I missed."
A gentle breeze blew past, and the leaves of the trees rustled in the warm afternoon sun, their shadows playfully shifting on the ground like ocean waves. But there was something off about those shadows.
Out of a sixth sense borne of years of training, the two teens immediately looked up the tree they were leaning against, just in time to see a black-clad man leaping down from a low branch, a knife in his bleeding hand. Although Kirika had obviously hit his gun hand only a minute before, he was still determined to complete his mission.
In that instant, Fuji hated Soldats more than ever for breeding such heartless, murderous robots, and he hated that he had actually been one of those heartless, murderous robots.
The assassin let loose a battle cry as he dove at them, but Kirika reacted quickly. She leaped forward, shoving Fuji out of the way with an outstretched arm while twisting in midair to fire the killing shot with her other hand. Her bullet hit the assassin squarely in the chest as he fell, yet in spite of that, he remained persistent.
"KIRIKA!" Fuji shouted, horrified. Time seemed to slow just enough to amplify the gore; the attacker's knife lodged itself triumphantly in Kirika's upper thigh, and a split-second later, the man landed heavily next to Kirika's injured form and tumbled lifelessly aside.
Kirika uttered a small cry and gritted her teeth as she lay on her back, her weapon slipping out of her hand when she reached down to clutch at her injury. Fuji tried not to let the involuntary tears in her eyes and the large blade in her leg bother him, but he couldn't help but feel responsible.
Why hadn't he seen that assassin above them? All he had to do was watch for possible holes in their defenses, and he hadn't even done it right. He needed training.
Damn 'Nee-san for not telling me sooner, he fumed as he bent over Kirika's form and gently shook the young woman's shoulders. "Kirika-chan," he whispered. "Are you all right?"
Through clenched teeth, she answered, "Don't let your guard down. There's one more..."
All right, Fuji thought darkly. I haven't forgotten how to fight. I can take care of the last one.
Deftly, he flipped the knife in his fingers to a throwing position, but before he could move again, Kirika's gun was already in her hand, and she reached over Fuji's shoulders, pulling him flush against her. With his face pressed into her collarbone, Fuji blushed furiously, almost dropping his knife.
"Don't move," she ordered. "We're hidden well enough in the grass."
When she fired, he didn't even feel the gun recoil, and a heartbeat later, the third and final assassin collapsed against a tree a short distance away, having caught a bullet in his temple just as he was reloading his weapon.
Kirika never even had to reload hers.
Abruptly, Fuji realized that there was, in fact, simple logic in his sister's seemingly illogical decision to hire Kirika, and that logic nullified every argument he could possibly create against her.
Simply put, Fuji Yumiko had called Kirika back to Japan because regardless of the girl's history, regardless of her personality, and regardless of how the Fujis felt about her, Yuumura Kirika was, without a shadow of a doubt, the ultimate assassin.
Kaidoh Kaoru had always been very private whenever it came to his personal life. He knew he wasn't one of the best-looking guys, like Tezuka-senpai, whose perpetually swooning fanclub had almost committed ritual suicide when he left for New York. In addition, Kaidoh didn't delude himself into thinking he was perfect husband material, like Oishi-senpai, whose devotion to his girlfriend sickened the rest of the male population and made the members of the now-disbanded Oishi fanclub sigh longingly each time Oishi strode past. Kaidoh also didn't fancy himself as the most fun, most approachable person, like Kikumaru-senpai, who had no shortage of "friends who were girls" and had a new girl hanging off his arm each month.
In spite of his perceived shortcomings, Kaidoh at least knew he was more honest and caring than that stupid, loud-mouthed, uncivilized Momoshiro. Kaidoh also liked to think that he was as gallant towards women (foreign, distant objects that they were) as Fuji-senpai, who treated members of the fairer sex with utmost respect.
But therein lay a problem.
Given what the tennis team had witnessed at lunch, just how wonderful *was* Fuji-senpai, really?
Kaidoh had long admired him for being a widely adored school figure who abstained from women, though he was famous enough to have a fanclub like Tezuka, Oishi, and Echizen. Kaidoh had always assumed Fuji-senpai never dated because he was so focused on tennis, and there was nothing Kaidoh admired more than single-minded determination.
Maybe Fuji-senpai's image was just too good to be true, Kaidoh concluded sadly as he jogged around the tennis courts. Well, at least what the team had seen at lunch completely invalidated rumors circulating last year about Fuji-senpai being involved with both his younger brother *and* Tezuka-senpai. Kaidoh couldn't suppress a shudder at the memory, followed immediately by an overwhelming urge to throw up.
He shook his head.
In truth, everyone only *thought* they knew Fuji-senpai, believing he was the friendly neighborhood tennis prodigy, but even though Kaidoh looked up to him, he had also never trusted people who smiled all the time. No one could possibly keep up a smile for that long without hurting their cheeks; one would have to be inhuman. Those contrasting feelings of respect and suspicion made Kaidoh's head spin, so as much as Kaidoh admired Fuji-senpai, part of him was glad to know that Fuji-senpai was not the perfect prodigy that everyone believed him to be.
Kaidoh sighed as he passed the locker room again on his ninth lap around the courts. The other regulars hadn't emerged yet, probably still debating about Fuji-senpai's relationship with the new girl, so Kaidoh was glad he had escaped the locker room early enough to avoid the embarrassing theories floating around. Unfortunately, the non-regulars milling about outside were starting to look worried, especially since Ryuzaki-sensei seemed to have neglected to show up. Kaidoh sighed again. As the only regular who was thinking rationally, he would have to take responsibility.
One more lap, he decided, and I'll go in and fetch the others.
Instead of turning left to go around the tennis courts, however, Kaidoh turned right into the park behind the school for a change of scenery; responsibility could afford to wait a bit longer. Kaidoh liked nature in general, and cute animals in particular, and that was the side of him he wouldn't dare show anyone lest his tough, manly, anti-social reputation be shattered. Besides, that stupid Momoshiro would probably make fun of him if he knew his weakness for fluffy woodland creatures.
Kaidoh glowered, thoughts of his rival fueling his drive to become a better athlete. That clown Momoshiro couldn't run five laps without running out of breath. Kaidoh, on the other hand, prided himself on having the endurance of a marathon runner, so he decided to go an extra kilometer around the lake.
Really, responsibility could wait.
He would show that obnoxious, hot-tempered, talent-deficient buffoon who was the better player at the next ranking tournament. He'd make sure Ryuzaki-sensei placed them in the same block this time... At that point, Kaidoh's thoughts degenerated into various imagined scenes involving him crushing Momoshiro in straight sets. Of course, all the scenes also somehow involved Momoshiro wailing like a baby while Kaidoh towered over him, laughing. Kaidoh smiled blissfully.
Halfway around the lake, however, his concentration broke when he heard unusual noises coming from somewhere in the forest. Slowing his pace, Kaidoh peered through the foliage suspiciously until he was startled to a halt by someone's faint gasp.
A woman in distress?
Kaidoh hissed. He was actually quite a chivalrous man (if only women would stop running from him, he lamented, blushing vehemently), so his knight-in-shining-armor instincts came alive in an instant. Cautiously, he edged towards where he thought this damsel in distress must be, his senses on high alert, his muscles ready to lash out at the evildoer who would dare harm a lady. As he drew perilously closer to the trees, he heard the woman gasp again. Kaidoh hesitated, but then stopped in his tracks because the woman's gasping was followed by a very familiar male voice speaking in a low, concerned tone.
"Gomen," Fuji-senpai's silky tenor came clearly from behind the trees, and Kaidoh froze. "Did I hurt you? Should I stop?"
"Iie..." came the female's equally gentle response. "I was just... surprised. It's just that... I didn't realize it was so big... and it's in deep."
Fuji-senpai's chuckle lilted through the trees like a happy tune. Kaidoh was reminded of a certain nursery rhyme children sang--which happened to be about the Black Plague. Kaidoh turned green.
"Gomen," Fuji-senpai spoke again. "As much as I'm enjoying your suffering, this is my fault. Should I pull it out slowly?"
"I'll be fine," the woman insisted, and Kaidoh finally recognized who Fuji-senpai was talking to. "Just do it all at once."
It was that... that...
Yuumura-senpai.
Kaidoh stumbled backwards, wide-eyed and choking for air.
It was Yuumura-senpai. And Fuji-senpai. Alone. In the woods.
"This will hurt for a few seconds," Fuji-senpai murmured apologetically, "but I promise it will feel much better in no time."
Kaidoh swallowed hard, his mind spiraling into horrified panic. No no no no no no no... Fuji-senpai... he wouldn't... not Fuji-senpai...
"I trust I'll be able to walk again after this, Syusuke-kun," Yuumura-senpai said breathily.
"Of course. I never disappoint."
The thin thread of hope keeping Fuji-senpai's image together in Kaidoh's mind snapped, and Kaidoh was suddenly no longer sweating because of his run. He was suddenly no longer interested in hearing more of this obviously VERY private conversation because if he heard any more, his ears would bleed.
Unable to contain himself, Kaidoh screamed.
"IYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!"
The Viper executed a perfect, 180-degree pivot and fled, traumatized, mortified, befuddled, frightened, tongue-tied, and blushing something terrible. He was yelling all the way on his record-smashing sprint to the locker room.
"...YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA..."
Fuji looked up from his task of wrapping Kirika's wound with his torn shirt sleeve. Her leg wasn't a pretty sight, as he had just pulled out the offending blade embedded in the flesh of her right thigh. Still, he noticed Kirika opening her eyes against the pain, struck by curiosity and paranoia as well, because the frighteningly inhuman shriek echoing through the woods was loud enough to shatter eardrums.
"What *is* that?" Kirika asked, tensing as she surveyed their surroundings for more assassins.
"I don't know," Fuji answered, rising to his feet and frowning in the direction of the scream. "It sounded close..."
"But it seems as if it's drifting farther away, towards the tennis courts, perhaps," Kirika remarked, and indeed she was right. The anguished cry was fading.
"Well then," Fuji smiled, visibly relaxing and crouching back down next to her, "I wouldn't be too surprised if that was the dying call of one of the freshmen tasting Inui's Super Special Deluxe Original Juice Remix Mach 7. Have I told you about Inui's vegetable juice, Kirika-chan?"
Kirika actually beamed slightly, despite the pain of her wound. "I did some research before coming to Japan, Syusuke-kun. I know Inui-san's recipes, and I've tried them myself."
"Really?" Fuji's eyes lit up even as he bandaged her leg. "So don't you agree that they're quite delicious?"
"Mireille was hospitalized for two days," Kirika replied. "She refused to speak to me for a week."
"Hm. I wonder why," Fuji mused absently. "Did you say something mean to her?"
Kirika shrugged. "Maybe."
"Well, if you make those vegetable drinks for me every day, I'll forgive you for intruding on my home."
Kirika's smile grew. Did she even have to think about the offer?
"Deal."
-= End Chapter Three =-
Chapter Started: July 22, 2003
Chapter Finished: August 1, 2003
In the Next Chapter:
- Kaidoh reports.
- Yuuta finds out.
- Kirika tracks.
- Syusuke trains.
Please, please review and/or send all comments (however bad, good, long, or short) to me at rune_dreaming@yahoo.com! Your feedback is very much appreciated!
Copyright (C) 2003 by Dark Rune. All rights reserved.