Chapter 6 - A Bit of a Surprise (Kirika's POV)
I jogged a bit on the way home. I'd have to hurry a bit to get back to the park in one hour, and I thought that hurrying on the way home would be better than hurrying back after my shower.
Mirelle was barely up when I got back and rushed into the shower with an apology to her. She really wasn't a morning person at all, and until she'd had some coffee it often seemed like even though her eyes were open, she wasn't really all there.
I couldn't believe myself really. After saying just the other day that I couldn't be seen around other people, I walked up to a guy I'd never met before and talked to him.
The cold shower water beat down on my head, making be shiver a bit. I mean, he wasn't that much older than me I didn't think, probably in his mid twenties. And had he actually, sort of, almost, asked me out on a date?
No, that couldn't have been it at all. It was just nice for him to meet someone who he could talk with easily. It was easy to talk with him too. I hadn't really intended to talk at all, but somehow...
I closed my eyes as I shampooed my hair, and I could picture his tired blue grey eyes looking at me in the park. My eyes snapped open and I got an eye-full of shampoo.
"Ooh... nuts," I muttered, washing out my eye. I couldn't be seen with the person a second time. He would become a target. I would spend the day with Mirelle, and that was that.
He looked so... confident running through those forms though. I'd never seen any of my instructors do a full set so perfectly. Maybe he could take care of himself. He was Japanese as well, which was nice. I could only assume that I was a native Japanese speaker, because no matter how many languages I knew it always did seem easier to express myself in.
What was I thinking? I would return to the park, but over the roofs. I would watch for the watchers who I knew would be there. I would shadow them. Trail them back to their controller. Trail the controller back to his, and so on until I found the inner circle of Les Soldats and then kill them one by one.
I looked at myself in the mirror as I got out of the shower. Maybe I did need to eat a bit more. I'd be exercising more anyway now. Maybe he would spar with me in other styles? He did say that he was trained in other martial arts as well, didn't he?
It was going to be hot today, so I put on a sun dress and grabbed a big straw hat like the one I'd worn when Mirelle and I were in the Carribean a while ago. My gun went in the backpack in the drawstring pocket I could draw it fastest from. I'd have to check it before we went into anywhere with a metal detector.
The throwing knives on my leg would make a good back up, and they were ceramic, so I wouldn't need to take them off. The sandals looked a bit impractical, but I could run for at least five miles in them, the rubber soles were quiet, and they would grip roof tiles well.
I had checked.
I hurried out from my room, grabbed a couple croissants and some water, and ran out. It was getting a bit late.
"Bye Mirelle, I'll be out for the day," I said as I shut the door behind me, taking the steps two at a time on the way down. I think she was too surprised, or she might have asked what I was doing.
I kept glancing down at my watch as I walked, making sure I'd be on time. I checked the gun surreptitiously a second time, making sure there was a round in the chamber.
What was I doing out here? I should have asked Mirelle to follow, just in case he was one of Les Soldats. I wouldn't drink or eat anything that I couldn't watch the entire time it was being prepared, to make sure I wasn't being drugged. I wouldn't sit in the open, and I would walk slightly behind him and to his right, so he couldn't draw right handed and shoot in the same motion.
Then I was in the park, and I saw him waiting on a bench. He looked really surprised to see me. I wasn't sure why. I walked up to him, not really looking straight at him because I could feel him staring at me.
"Sorry you had to wait for me," I said to him, a bit breathless. Strange, I hadn't run here, had I?
"No, I... I was early," he said, looking around at anything but me as I looked up. I felt a bit of wonder in me, and had to smile. What was he nervous for? He looked like he was about to run away. Then he looked up at me and met my eyes. I think he saw my smile, because as I looked at him, his tension seemed to drain away. My smile was making him relax? Then he threw me this cocky grin I hadn't seen before, and... I could feel myself flushing, but I wasn't looking away for some reason.
I found myself walking on his right, just slightly behind the centerline of his body. I'm fairly sure we'd decided to go to the Louvre. Goodness. I flushed again. What had he said to me?
He didn't look like he was armed though. His dark vest didn't leave any room for concealed weapons underneath it. The short sleeved shirt was open and moved too much to hide a holster behind him or to the side. The cargo pants were loose, but the fabric didn't drape like there was much in the pockets. The room was probably to allow full leg extension in a high kick rather than anything else. The court shoes would give good support and grip. So perhaps he was ready to fight after all. I would move out of his immediate reach the instant I felt threatened.
He certainly had a lot of scars though, just like me. I could see them on his arms, and in his eyes as well. We walked for a while in silence, but it was ok. I could tell he was still relaxed and I was too.
Now I was leaning on a railing looking out on the tour boats moving slowly up and down the Seine. It was night. Rippling reflections from the city turned the waters into a fluid mosaic of light and dark.
I hope Mirelle wasn't worried about me. I'd spent the whole day with Ranma, walking all over the city and talking. Looking at the Mona Lisa in the Louvre, and both thinking it was smaller than we thought it would be. Looking at the two thousand year old weapons there and figuring out how they'd been used. Eating lunch in a café on the roof of a department store looking out over the Seine. Eating dinner in a little charcuterie on a side street. I could tell he was as comfortable with me as I was with him. I think... I think he likes me. I mean, not Like, of course. Just... comfortable.
But he kept avoiding telling me about what he was doing in Paris. Just like I would if he'd asked me what I was doing here. But he hadn't even asked me. So he was a killer or a thief. If he was a killer, I would probably have to kill him. If he was a thief... I would ask Mirelle. Maybe we would have to kill him anyway. Best to be safe. But I would ask him one more time. Just...
"Ranma?" I say, drawing his attention to me. I look away, avoiding those eyes of his.
"Yeah?" he says.
"So what are you doing in Paris? You still haven't explained."
I can see tension return to his body. Not like he was going to attack me, like he just didn't want to talk about it. We stood there a minute or more. He looked out over the water and sighed.
"Ok," he said. "I'll tell you. I was hoping you wouldn't ask again so soon though."
"I know," I told him. "That's why I had to ask." He smiled at that.
"I'm a policeman," he said, and suddenly my heart wasn't working right. I hadn't even considered that. Why wouldn't he want to tell me about that? Was he undercover?
"I was sent here by the Tokyo police, because a department of the Paris police had requested some help. I was sent here to find a couple of female assassins who go by the name of Noir and either bring them in, or kill them if I had to."
My brain wasn't working either. I had to move now. He was dead, and he just didn't know it yet. Kill him before he knew who I was. One knife thrust would punch through the back of his skull at the very base. There was no tour boat. He would be in the water before he was dead. I would be gone in five seconds.
"From some of the evidence the police had collected, they believed that one of the two women was Oriental, specifically Japanese. Both quite young. So I arrived just a couple days ago and got down to work."
He knew after all. He must know I'm Noir. I don't know what to do.
"But as I looked through more and more of the case files, I sorta figured that maybe Noir was being attacked most of the time, not doing the attacking. Then I thought back. See, my life has been pretty crazy," he said with a sigh, still looking out over the water. I stared at him. He must have known who I was the whole day I just spent with him.
"I had to kill for the first time when I was sixteen," he continued. "Well, not really kill as it turned out, but anyway. I've had to kill again since then as well. Lots of times. I didn't want to. Each time at the start I'd fight like hell to find some other way; I only did it when I was put in a situation where I didn't have a choice. But I just ended up in situations where I didn't have choice again and again. Then after a while, it got easier sometimes just to do it instead of avoiding it. I hated that I felt that way when I realised it, but there was no way out for me. That was just the way life had worked out. About two years ago things got worse because a couple people important to me realised what had happened to me without them knowing it until it was too late. Since then, things have just gotten even more crazy."
I was still staring at him. He sounded so tired.
"It was like there were these walls around me and I couldn't get out of the life I was stuck in," he said. "So I just sorta thought, you know, what about those girls? Noir I mean. I mean, what if they were trapped in the same way? What if they didn't want to be where they were? Maybe they didn't have any choices either."
He turned and looked me straight in the eye. He understood me. That's what he'd just told me, and looking in his eyes, I knew he was right.
"So now I'm not sure what to do," he said. "I figure I'll just go with what my gut is telling me. I don't think Noir in jail or dead is going to help anyone at all, so I won't do anything like that. I mean, I'm not saying I should be helping them or anything. I don't know."
He stuttered to a halt, sighed, and turned and leaned back on the railing, looking up at the sky. His exposed throat was an easy target, but I wasn't doing anything about it. There was a tense silence. I didn't know what to do, and I suppose he didn't either.
"You can't see that many stars in the city," he finally said, after clearing his throat a bit. "It's one of the things I miss most about camping out with my old man."
"Mmmm..." I murmured, and looked away from him. I hadn't even realised I'd been looking at him. I felt less tense though, he wasn't pushing things into any sort of confrontation.
Both of us stood there, leaning against that railing for a while. I'm not really sure how long. Maybe his thoughts were as confused as mine. Eventually we wandered back through the city streets to the park where we'd met just that morning. That seemed very strange for some reason.
"Ummm... I'll be back here training tomorrow morning," he said, looking over at me in the dark. "The offer's still open, if you're into it."
"I... maybe," I said. I had no idea if I would be there. My head was still swimming with conflicting needs. Kill him. Trust him.
"Ok," he nodded, understanding me, I think. "See ya around then."
I turned away and walked out of the park. I knew he wouldn't try and follow me.
Mirelle was worried when I got back to the apartment. I had been out over twelve hours, after all.
"Where have you been all this time," she asked, after she'd complained at me a bit.
"I was just doing some sight seeing," I said.
"Sight seeing? But you've lived here with me for more than a year."
"I know," I said, "but I've never had a chance to see much of the city, other than the sewers. The rest of the time we've been busy doing something, and we can't just slow down and admire what's around us."
"True enough," she said. "Where did you go?"
We talked for a while, drinking a bit of tea. Of course she knew more about the history of where I'd been than I did. Soon though I was yawning, and I got ready for bed.
Lying curled up in bed with my eyes closed, my worries were replaced by a sort of comfortable warmth in my stomach as I drifted off to sleep. I hoped that I'd get a good rest.
I had to get up early, after all.
Chapter 6 Author's Notes
- Alright, Kirika has a bunch of throwing knives in a leg sheath. I have no idea how practical this is, or if it is possible to walk around for a day armed to the teeth with long sharp ceramic knives attached to your leg under a sun dress. Sadly, I have no personal experience being a psycho death ninja. But this is anime, so it's possible, ok?
- As for the knives being ceramic, this is totally possible, as the kitchen knives in a local kitchen supply store will attest. Glock makes a ceramic gun after all, so a knife isn't real tricky.
- This chapter was a bit tricky to write, and I'm still not sure if I really managed to pull it off. See, it's from Kirika's POV, and it's really intended to show her struggling between being the absurdly deadly killer she's been trained to be and who she had been, and a girl out on her first date-ish sort of thing. Since I haven't ever been either, it's just guesswork on my part.
- the 'fluid mosaic of light and dark' on the Seine almost inspired me to use the word chiaroscuro, but that would be... like... sooooo Thomas Covenant...
- Just a response to a review questioning Kirika's age… Yeah, that was a bit weird in the series. I mean, she looks much younger than Mirelle, but in later episodes it becomes obvious that she can't be much younger at all. My take is that since she looked young, her cover was younger than she actually is at the start of the series. Also, I feel that Noir itself (the anime) probably plays out over the course of at least a year or two of actual time. The jobs that they take all over the world would each take planning etc. as well as time needed to recover from injuries etc. Also, the seasons change from episode to episode. Part of this can be explained by different locations, hemispheres and so on, but not all of it. So I'm saying Kirika is about 20 here, since its set 6 months or so after the end of Noir itself. Also so that Ranma isn't too much older than her. I'll note here that no matter what she looks like, Mirelle is probably between 22 and 24.
- One more thing… (as Uncle would say). I'm bumping the rating up since I realise some people in the fic will be potty mouths.
I jogged a bit on the way home. I'd have to hurry a bit to get back to the park in one hour, and I thought that hurrying on the way home would be better than hurrying back after my shower.
Mirelle was barely up when I got back and rushed into the shower with an apology to her. She really wasn't a morning person at all, and until she'd had some coffee it often seemed like even though her eyes were open, she wasn't really all there.
I couldn't believe myself really. After saying just the other day that I couldn't be seen around other people, I walked up to a guy I'd never met before and talked to him.
The cold shower water beat down on my head, making be shiver a bit. I mean, he wasn't that much older than me I didn't think, probably in his mid twenties. And had he actually, sort of, almost, asked me out on a date?
No, that couldn't have been it at all. It was just nice for him to meet someone who he could talk with easily. It was easy to talk with him too. I hadn't really intended to talk at all, but somehow...
I closed my eyes as I shampooed my hair, and I could picture his tired blue grey eyes looking at me in the park. My eyes snapped open and I got an eye-full of shampoo.
"Ooh... nuts," I muttered, washing out my eye. I couldn't be seen with the person a second time. He would become a target. I would spend the day with Mirelle, and that was that.
He looked so... confident running through those forms though. I'd never seen any of my instructors do a full set so perfectly. Maybe he could take care of himself. He was Japanese as well, which was nice. I could only assume that I was a native Japanese speaker, because no matter how many languages I knew it always did seem easier to express myself in.
What was I thinking? I would return to the park, but over the roofs. I would watch for the watchers who I knew would be there. I would shadow them. Trail them back to their controller. Trail the controller back to his, and so on until I found the inner circle of Les Soldats and then kill them one by one.
I looked at myself in the mirror as I got out of the shower. Maybe I did need to eat a bit more. I'd be exercising more anyway now. Maybe he would spar with me in other styles? He did say that he was trained in other martial arts as well, didn't he?
It was going to be hot today, so I put on a sun dress and grabbed a big straw hat like the one I'd worn when Mirelle and I were in the Carribean a while ago. My gun went in the backpack in the drawstring pocket I could draw it fastest from. I'd have to check it before we went into anywhere with a metal detector.
The throwing knives on my leg would make a good back up, and they were ceramic, so I wouldn't need to take them off. The sandals looked a bit impractical, but I could run for at least five miles in them, the rubber soles were quiet, and they would grip roof tiles well.
I had checked.
I hurried out from my room, grabbed a couple croissants and some water, and ran out. It was getting a bit late.
"Bye Mirelle, I'll be out for the day," I said as I shut the door behind me, taking the steps two at a time on the way down. I think she was too surprised, or she might have asked what I was doing.
I kept glancing down at my watch as I walked, making sure I'd be on time. I checked the gun surreptitiously a second time, making sure there was a round in the chamber.
What was I doing out here? I should have asked Mirelle to follow, just in case he was one of Les Soldats. I wouldn't drink or eat anything that I couldn't watch the entire time it was being prepared, to make sure I wasn't being drugged. I wouldn't sit in the open, and I would walk slightly behind him and to his right, so he couldn't draw right handed and shoot in the same motion.
Then I was in the park, and I saw him waiting on a bench. He looked really surprised to see me. I wasn't sure why. I walked up to him, not really looking straight at him because I could feel him staring at me.
"Sorry you had to wait for me," I said to him, a bit breathless. Strange, I hadn't run here, had I?
"No, I... I was early," he said, looking around at anything but me as I looked up. I felt a bit of wonder in me, and had to smile. What was he nervous for? He looked like he was about to run away. Then he looked up at me and met my eyes. I think he saw my smile, because as I looked at him, his tension seemed to drain away. My smile was making him relax? Then he threw me this cocky grin I hadn't seen before, and... I could feel myself flushing, but I wasn't looking away for some reason.
I found myself walking on his right, just slightly behind the centerline of his body. I'm fairly sure we'd decided to go to the Louvre. Goodness. I flushed again. What had he said to me?
He didn't look like he was armed though. His dark vest didn't leave any room for concealed weapons underneath it. The short sleeved shirt was open and moved too much to hide a holster behind him or to the side. The cargo pants were loose, but the fabric didn't drape like there was much in the pockets. The room was probably to allow full leg extension in a high kick rather than anything else. The court shoes would give good support and grip. So perhaps he was ready to fight after all. I would move out of his immediate reach the instant I felt threatened.
He certainly had a lot of scars though, just like me. I could see them on his arms, and in his eyes as well. We walked for a while in silence, but it was ok. I could tell he was still relaxed and I was too.
Now I was leaning on a railing looking out on the tour boats moving slowly up and down the Seine. It was night. Rippling reflections from the city turned the waters into a fluid mosaic of light and dark.
I hope Mirelle wasn't worried about me. I'd spent the whole day with Ranma, walking all over the city and talking. Looking at the Mona Lisa in the Louvre, and both thinking it was smaller than we thought it would be. Looking at the two thousand year old weapons there and figuring out how they'd been used. Eating lunch in a café on the roof of a department store looking out over the Seine. Eating dinner in a little charcuterie on a side street. I could tell he was as comfortable with me as I was with him. I think... I think he likes me. I mean, not Like, of course. Just... comfortable.
But he kept avoiding telling me about what he was doing in Paris. Just like I would if he'd asked me what I was doing here. But he hadn't even asked me. So he was a killer or a thief. If he was a killer, I would probably have to kill him. If he was a thief... I would ask Mirelle. Maybe we would have to kill him anyway. Best to be safe. But I would ask him one more time. Just...
"Ranma?" I say, drawing his attention to me. I look away, avoiding those eyes of his.
"Yeah?" he says.
"So what are you doing in Paris? You still haven't explained."
I can see tension return to his body. Not like he was going to attack me, like he just didn't want to talk about it. We stood there a minute or more. He looked out over the water and sighed.
"Ok," he said. "I'll tell you. I was hoping you wouldn't ask again so soon though."
"I know," I told him. "That's why I had to ask." He smiled at that.
"I'm a policeman," he said, and suddenly my heart wasn't working right. I hadn't even considered that. Why wouldn't he want to tell me about that? Was he undercover?
"I was sent here by the Tokyo police, because a department of the Paris police had requested some help. I was sent here to find a couple of female assassins who go by the name of Noir and either bring them in, or kill them if I had to."
My brain wasn't working either. I had to move now. He was dead, and he just didn't know it yet. Kill him before he knew who I was. One knife thrust would punch through the back of his skull at the very base. There was no tour boat. He would be in the water before he was dead. I would be gone in five seconds.
"From some of the evidence the police had collected, they believed that one of the two women was Oriental, specifically Japanese. Both quite young. So I arrived just a couple days ago and got down to work."
He knew after all. He must know I'm Noir. I don't know what to do.
"But as I looked through more and more of the case files, I sorta figured that maybe Noir was being attacked most of the time, not doing the attacking. Then I thought back. See, my life has been pretty crazy," he said with a sigh, still looking out over the water. I stared at him. He must have known who I was the whole day I just spent with him.
"I had to kill for the first time when I was sixteen," he continued. "Well, not really kill as it turned out, but anyway. I've had to kill again since then as well. Lots of times. I didn't want to. Each time at the start I'd fight like hell to find some other way; I only did it when I was put in a situation where I didn't have a choice. But I just ended up in situations where I didn't have choice again and again. Then after a while, it got easier sometimes just to do it instead of avoiding it. I hated that I felt that way when I realised it, but there was no way out for me. That was just the way life had worked out. About two years ago things got worse because a couple people important to me realised what had happened to me without them knowing it until it was too late. Since then, things have just gotten even more crazy."
I was still staring at him. He sounded so tired.
"It was like there were these walls around me and I couldn't get out of the life I was stuck in," he said. "So I just sorta thought, you know, what about those girls? Noir I mean. I mean, what if they were trapped in the same way? What if they didn't want to be where they were? Maybe they didn't have any choices either."
He turned and looked me straight in the eye. He understood me. That's what he'd just told me, and looking in his eyes, I knew he was right.
"So now I'm not sure what to do," he said. "I figure I'll just go with what my gut is telling me. I don't think Noir in jail or dead is going to help anyone at all, so I won't do anything like that. I mean, I'm not saying I should be helping them or anything. I don't know."
He stuttered to a halt, sighed, and turned and leaned back on the railing, looking up at the sky. His exposed throat was an easy target, but I wasn't doing anything about it. There was a tense silence. I didn't know what to do, and I suppose he didn't either.
"You can't see that many stars in the city," he finally said, after clearing his throat a bit. "It's one of the things I miss most about camping out with my old man."
"Mmmm..." I murmured, and looked away from him. I hadn't even realised I'd been looking at him. I felt less tense though, he wasn't pushing things into any sort of confrontation.
Both of us stood there, leaning against that railing for a while. I'm not really sure how long. Maybe his thoughts were as confused as mine. Eventually we wandered back through the city streets to the park where we'd met just that morning. That seemed very strange for some reason.
"Ummm... I'll be back here training tomorrow morning," he said, looking over at me in the dark. "The offer's still open, if you're into it."
"I... maybe," I said. I had no idea if I would be there. My head was still swimming with conflicting needs. Kill him. Trust him.
"Ok," he nodded, understanding me, I think. "See ya around then."
I turned away and walked out of the park. I knew he wouldn't try and follow me.
Mirelle was worried when I got back to the apartment. I had been out over twelve hours, after all.
"Where have you been all this time," she asked, after she'd complained at me a bit.
"I was just doing some sight seeing," I said.
"Sight seeing? But you've lived here with me for more than a year."
"I know," I said, "but I've never had a chance to see much of the city, other than the sewers. The rest of the time we've been busy doing something, and we can't just slow down and admire what's around us."
"True enough," she said. "Where did you go?"
We talked for a while, drinking a bit of tea. Of course she knew more about the history of where I'd been than I did. Soon though I was yawning, and I got ready for bed.
Lying curled up in bed with my eyes closed, my worries were replaced by a sort of comfortable warmth in my stomach as I drifted off to sleep. I hoped that I'd get a good rest.
I had to get up early, after all.
Chapter 6 Author's Notes
- Alright, Kirika has a bunch of throwing knives in a leg sheath. I have no idea how practical this is, or if it is possible to walk around for a day armed to the teeth with long sharp ceramic knives attached to your leg under a sun dress. Sadly, I have no personal experience being a psycho death ninja. But this is anime, so it's possible, ok?
- As for the knives being ceramic, this is totally possible, as the kitchen knives in a local kitchen supply store will attest. Glock makes a ceramic gun after all, so a knife isn't real tricky.
- This chapter was a bit tricky to write, and I'm still not sure if I really managed to pull it off. See, it's from Kirika's POV, and it's really intended to show her struggling between being the absurdly deadly killer she's been trained to be and who she had been, and a girl out on her first date-ish sort of thing. Since I haven't ever been either, it's just guesswork on my part.
- the 'fluid mosaic of light and dark' on the Seine almost inspired me to use the word chiaroscuro, but that would be... like... sooooo Thomas Covenant...
- Just a response to a review questioning Kirika's age… Yeah, that was a bit weird in the series. I mean, she looks much younger than Mirelle, but in later episodes it becomes obvious that she can't be much younger at all. My take is that since she looked young, her cover was younger than she actually is at the start of the series. Also, I feel that Noir itself (the anime) probably plays out over the course of at least a year or two of actual time. The jobs that they take all over the world would each take planning etc. as well as time needed to recover from injuries etc. Also, the seasons change from episode to episode. Part of this can be explained by different locations, hemispheres and so on, but not all of it. So I'm saying Kirika is about 20 here, since its set 6 months or so after the end of Noir itself. Also so that Ranma isn't too much older than her. I'll note here that no matter what she looks like, Mirelle is probably between 22 and 24.
- One more thing… (as Uncle would say). I'm bumping the rating up since I realise some people in the fic will be potty mouths.