Maiah walked down the streets that were near the Bouquet residence, waiting for Mieuret to show his face. Her brilliantly blonde hair had one crimson streak in the front, and she wore dark purple clothes. Most people would have called her strange for the way she dressed, but she believed in being unique. Finally, she saw Mieuret turn the corner and gave him a dark look. Originally, she had been ready to marry him, but then Mireille Bouquet had come into the picture. Catty as it might have sounded, she was genuinely angry at the Bouquet woman and at Jean for betraying her.
"You're late," she said venomously, looking at the watch on her wrist for emphasis. If he was going to go running off with that blonde, then she refused to let him off easy. "And why are you even bothering tying yourself to her when she's just going to become Livia's little puppet? It's no use." Mieuret smiled at her comfortingly and her unpredictable anger subsided. Even though she was mad at Jean, she still had a soft spot for him in the depths of her heart.
"That's exactly the reason, Maiah," he replied in that irritatingly calm way. "Mireille has enough trouble right now figuring out what to do with herself, and she might accept Livia's service as something to fill time because it involves more action than what she's doing now. Would you want to see a brilliant mind and a skilled person go to whittle away her life working under someone else's rules?" Maiah smirked and refrained from speaking her mind. If it had been anyone but Mireille Bouquet, she would have agreed with Jean.
"Let's get a little farther away from this place before we begin," she said, pointing to a small cafe just a little ways down the street. "There are too many distractions around here." Like that witch's apartment, she thought to herself angrily. All he ever thinks about is her, and she's the only person he cares about anymore. Where had that hard-core assassin from two years ago gone to? Now he was always reflective, always kinder and more caring than before. In truth, Maiah kind of liked the new Jean, but she missed the days when she was the object of his affections, instead of that annoying blonde.
"Alright," he said, putting a file full of papers underneath his arm as inconspicuously as possible. "Really, Maiah, you don't have to be jealous of myself and Mireille. We've only known each other for a little less than a year, and nobody knows where our relationship could go. It's just that she needs my help at this time, and afterwards, we can pick up where we left off. Please understand, Maiah. You know that I won't abandon you."
Both were silent as they walked over to the cafe, their footsteps falling heavily. Maiah had little time to dwell on what Jean had just said, but it did give her some slight reassurance. After all, their relationship had been going strong for more than a year and a half. What could Mireille Bouquet do to shattter a bond like that? Soon enough they reached the cafe, and Maiah's face turned red with anger as she spotted that witch at one of the central tables, with her annoyingly quiet friend, Yuumura Kirika. "This will be fine, won't it Maiah?" She snapped back to reality and saw Jean leaning toward her, obviously having just addressed the question.
"Of course," she replied irritably. "Why not?" For a moment, Maiah could have sworn that she saw Mireille shift her eyes their way, but she dismissed it as a product of her self-admitted jealousy.
"Now," Maiah said quietly, "Why did you want to see me, Jean?" Jean looked around discreetly, noticed Mireille, and lowered his voice to a softspoken tone.
"You are going to help me stop Livia and Antonio from getting at Mireille. No matter what you may think about this, I think that it would be best for you if you do this and get a little fun in. What do you say?"
"Of course, mon copain. It will be a delight to finally have something to do after all these years. I was hoping that I'd rediscover your real self, Jean, the one I fell in love with." A satisfied smile spread across his face, even bringing a mischievous gleam into his usually placid eyes.
"I'll remember that," he said softly, touching the hand that Maiah had stretched out on the table. Looking behind him, he noticed a younger man behind him, walking as if he had been severely inured. "Just a moment," he said, going to see who it was.
Surprise and suppressed horror came over Jean's face as he saw Jacques, standing there against the wall. "Bonjour," said Jean, his voice steadily calm. "What happened to you?"
"The wealth of Livia's family just so happened to work to my advantage. With the advanced medical technology that is available only to those who pay the price, she managed to bring me back to this state. There's still some pain, but it's not as bad as when I got this wound. Where'd you run off to, Mieuret, back to your little girlfriend?" Jean frowned dangerously and looked over at Mireille. "So," Jacques continued, "You were in it to betray us all along, weren't you Jean?"
"Enough!" Jean shouted furiously, forgetting entirely about the crowd around him. "You and Livia's kind are all scum, nothing for me to worry myself about. Besides, this way I'm not some slavish dog whose only purpose is to wait for his master's next order! Can you roll over, Jacques, can you play dead? I met your father, and at least he had some reason for meddling in the affairs of La Famille D'Ammoure! He would be disgusted with how you are acting today! Pierre LaMont never subjected himself to this! You have become little more than a worthless cur! Forget whatever partnership we had, Jacques. I refuse to side with someone as senseless as you!"
Maiah watched in horror as Jean broke and threw a punch at the smaller, wiry young man. She also watched as the fist's target doubled over in what looked like excruciating pain. With every blow that Jean dealt, Maiah flinched, and looked at Mireille, whose eyes were wide with horror. Those two who called themselves Noir, the heart of death, stood from their table and walked away silently. Yet Maiah could have sworn that she saw a few tears fall from Mirille's eyes, just as they were falling from her own. Getting up and dashing over to Jean, she grabbed his arm as he prepared to throw another punch at the now obviously wounded young man. "Haven't you caused him enough pain?" she demanded fiercely. "Jean, you're only sinking to his level with whatever stupid grudge you have against him. Can't you see that he's injured, struggling even to stand up?" Jean turned on her furiously, and shoved her hand off of his arm, causing her to stumble and fall on the ground.
"Why?" she asked feebly, struggling to overcome the pain that had risen in her head. "Why are you doing this Jean? Is your bloodlust so great that you have to take a wounded man's life?"
Suddenly, Jean stopped in the middle of his next attack. The police were already there, and he didn't want to be seen as some brawler off the streets. Rising to his feet in one lithe motion, he smiled at Maiah one last time, but she turned her head away from him. Mireille was standing next to one of the policemen, sobbing dejectedly as she told the story of how Jean had just gone over and abruptly started the brawl after shouting for a couple minutes. "Mireille," he said faintly, wishing he could explain to her for one last minute before they took him away, just to tell her why, although he couldn't blame her for calling the authorities. "Mireille, please, listen..." But she was already leaving him alone, walking back to her home with the Yuumura girl by her side. Those two were inseperable, but only he could do the healing that it would take to remold his relationship with Mireille, and with Maiah. Yet he could do nothing if he ended up going to prison without getting a chance to talk to her.
Mireille reached her apartment and ran in, flopping down on her bed. She still couldn't believe that Jean, gentle and placid Jean would do something like that to an injured man. Maybe he wasn't the right match for her. First he had tried to assassinate her, but she had known that he had been forced to do that. But why would he attack a defenseless young man, and one who was injured at that? Fresh tears began to swell in her eyes and she let them fall just this once. Who was around to see but Kirika? Now there was no Jean to confide in, to have mundane but enjoyable conversations with. What would she do with herself now?
"Are you alright, Mireille?" Kirika asked softly, sitting down next to her friend silently, avoiding physical contact. Things had gone well for the most part, but there was one thing that Kirika did not understand. If Mireille loved that man, or thought of him as a friend, why had she betrayed him? Was there something that had gone on between them, a constant edge to their relationship? "Why?" she asked. "What was the purpose?" When Mireille didn't answer, Kirika laughed one of her haunting laughs as she noticed that her friend had fallen asleep. All these years and Mireille still had surprises for her, surprises waiting at every corner of life, every milestone that they came to, her friend showed a different side, or perhaps a different facade. Either way, Kirika knew that she would have to be there for Mireille, to see to it that both of them made it through that lifetime without any regrets about their friendship.