f i n a l f a n t a s y : r e a l i t y
an angelhawk studios production
original concept by redshadow
written by chaosrayne
disk two: se7en: ceremony of innocence
Night in the Ryukin peninsula.
The Ryukin were a peaceful people, most of the time. They didn't care what the Imperials thought of them; to themselves, they were an island cut off from the outside world, as different from the rest of the world as they could be. Rezo had held off attacking the Ryukin simply because he believed they were a barbarous people, ones that used swords still; something that seemed pathetically primitive to him. Surely the Ryukin were no threat-? They didn't have use of plasma weaponry, their science was primitive and useless, and even their magic was of less power and versatility.
However, the Ryukin peninsula had an odd tendency to produce the highest amount of physically skilled personnel.
Namely, assassins, ninjas, and spies.
Only rumored, of course. But there were those that disappeared in the night, those that hid robes of black beneath their garments, and did the reaper's grim work.
The Japanese culture that had ended in Neotokyo when the Earthbreaker Wars had begun had somehow leaked to the Ryukin - rumor had it that they were the remnants of the refugees fled from the original city of Tokyo when it had been destroyed. The architecture and culture of the place was strongly reminiscent of that of feudal Japan - pagodas were everywhere, lit by the soft silver gleam of the full moon. Sakura blossoms swayed gently in a breeze, the tiny pink flowers seeming almost a pale white in comparison to the dark blue shadows of the night.
"You all right?"
Patch.
Sporting a few fresh battle scars, but still defiant as ever, the six-foot-six giant plodded around, his chest bare, revealing his battle-worn frame. A damp towel was draped around his shoulders - at his size, it looked like a rather large facecloth. His trooper issue M41-A knife still rested at his belt, un-modded and original in design. He had refused to change it from what it was. And you never caught him unarmed, either.
"...I'm...okay. I think."
Tara.
Troubled green eyes shone with a strange hint of sea-blue in the darkness. Her usually flamboyant red hair was done conservatively, in a tight bun finished off with a pair of needles. She wore a dark purple kimono that hung off her, loose yet comfortable.
"You sure...?" Patch pressed on, mopping his sweaty brow with the towel. "I just got done sparring with one of the Ryukin guys, and he gave me a good beating. Nothing a fight won't cure..."
Tara smiled wanly, turning to him. "...It's okay... it's just... this place brings back memories."
Patch paused. "Oh. ...Okay."
After she had helped him escape from the Imperial holding cell, she had brought him here, blowing up a few MEDUSA factories along the way. Ryukin. A peaceful enough city from the looks of it, but it was apparently Tara's hometown. Which came along with it's own share of problems.
A new figure spoke, and Patch started. He hadn't even heard this one approach - ! "Well well well. The prodigal daughter has returned." Icy, cold, even though the Basic was slightly stunted and accented in the lilting tones of Nipponese.
Tara turned. "I don't remember it being any of YOUR business, Harumi!"
Patch paused, turning to face the sound of the voice. Harumi, was it? "When we meet people, we introduce ourselves. So who exactly are you?"
"Watashi wa Harumi-desu." She bowed, and Tara flushed, although it had been a purely respectful gesture. "And you are Patch Randell, 5th Lieutenant, of the former rebel group known as the Zero-Seven."
The massive man in question inclined his head. "And you were referring to-"
"You mean you don't know?" Harumi looked slightly pained, her dark black hair kept out of her vision through some clever trick accomplished with a pair of hairpins and some blind luck. "Even you, as an outsider, should know-"
"What exactly should I know?" Patch hissed, cutting her off. "I don't exactly speak Nipponese that well..."
Harumi paused. He still couldn't see her eyes clearly- "Sumimasen... I just thought you should know - Tara is an outcast. She was cast out from within the ranks of the kunoichi after choosing a life of no honor."
"And what life without honor-"
Tara replied this time, more coldly than he'd heard her ever speak during the whole time he had known her. "That of a thief, Patch. A thief." Then she was gone, striding silently away from them both.
"She is no longer part of the family." Harumi said. "It was unwise of her to come back here with you in tow. Already rumors abound of how the dishonored kunoichi has come back with her new husband."
Patch took a step back, shaking his head. "I need a drink."
Interesting... Catherine thought as she strode along, still clad in her black cloak. The kanji were indeed a beautiful form of literature, but what was strange was that they seemed to pulse with some sort of power, almost... like a materia...
"Konbanwa, Catherine-san." An old voice, cracking slightly, almost like aged wood, spoke from behind her, and she whirled. For cryin' out loud, she hadn't even heard him sneak up-!
Her knife was in her hands before she could speak, and by then it was too late to recover herself gracefully. Embarrassment held under a veneer of anger, she resheathed the knife. "Sumimasen, Murasaki-san." She spoke. "I'm just a little... jumpy."
"Maybe letting off some stress would help you relax?" The old man said, gesturing to the large room lit by lantern. "A fight cures all, as they say."
"I'd really rather not-" Catherine started to speak, but then thought better of it. And hey, what could these primitive, cultural people fling at her that she couldn't handle? Their magic was weak and they didn't have plasma technology to rival that of the Imperial Empire. Maybe she, by defeating whatever this old fool set before her, could prove the overall superiority of the Imperial Empire over all...? "...challenge accepted."
The old man seemed to smile. "Such eagerness for the fight.... and such vitality in youth..." He sighed, then replied. "No-holds barred, you may use any weapon you like... and your opponent is..."
Catherine readied herself, keeping the words to a spell fresh in her mind as well as her long knife in her hand while casting her shadowy black cloak off, leaving her in a black turtleneck and long slacks that didn't inhibit movement.
"...Me." The old man spoke, and Catherine nearly lost her balance.
Fuming in rage at her apparent slip, Catherine snarled. "So be it. Let me just warn you; I'm not going to go easy on you just because you're probably five decades older than I am. I am a servant of the Imperial Empire and can take justification for killing you."
"As you wish." The old man said, not questioning why Catherine was still a servant of the Imperial Empire after her betrayal.
Catherine closed her eyes, concentrating.
And charged, knife held outstretched in her left hand, curving downward to complete a crescent slash, more often than not followed with a two-stroke combo that could leave an opponent bleeding, at least if not managing to score off an appendage.
However, her stroke met air as the old man seemingly disappeared without having moved and reappeared behind her.
"Funny, that." The old man said, smiling gently, without rancor. "I could have sworn you hit me that time..."
Catherine shelved her shock and surprise, whirling to slash downward, hoping to catch him-
-and he moved his foot over the slash before stamping down hard on the blade, trapping her blade arm. As she raised her hand with a superhuman effort, he stood there calmly, balancing cleanly on the edge of her knife.
"Too hasty, youth these days." The old man said ruefully. "Always so hasty..." He jumped up, and came down, staff first, in a move that Catherine only just dodged in time, as the staff penetrated the floor of the dojo and ripped into the ground beyond.
Catherine crept to the edge of the hole and looked down... holy crap... how in the hell did he do that---
"Above you?" Murasaki said cheerfully before dropping from the ceiling and giving her a gentle rap on the back with his cane that was just enough to imbalance her and send her tripping into the hole in the floor.
Snarling, the Imperial scientist got to her feet. The old bastard was fast, dammit- "Howling breath of winter, freeze the blood- DI-ICE!!!"
"Playing dirty now, are we?" The old man watched as the air began to solidify around him, on the way to encasing him in a block of ice. "...Flames... to me!" His body shone as if in a shimmering layer of white fire, burning away the frost. "You have a lot to learn about the Ryukin, Catherine-san."
Impossible -! The Ryukin were said to be primitive people, sticking firmly to tradition and family values instead of embracing the age of science; even their magic was lowly when compared to the summoning magics and mastered materia of the Imperial Empire- Catherine seriously started to doubt intel in the Imperial Empire was as good as it was supposed to be...
"I am sorry, Catherine-san, but I've promised a good friend of mine a game of chess that I've just remembered I will be late for..." The old man said, landing on his feet, unruffled, with the same damned kindly smile on his face. "You have a lot to learn about the world, my child. Humble yourself and seek the value of the fight in calm, and then you will truly become a master of the art. But until then..."
Catherine panted. What was he going to do-
He launched into a blurring series of cane strikes, everywhere - on her hands, on her torso, on her back, moving so fast all she saw was a blur, hitting her again and again- she tried to block, but there were just too many, everywhere, she was on her knees now, wincing every time the cane whistled through the air viciously to land with a stinging crack on her flesh...
She couldn't defend, she couldn't attack, the old bastard was all around her-
"Power of sacred flame, challenge the one before me! Kaseihi!" The old man spoke, thrusting his arm out, two fingers extended. A bright globe of flame burst into life, streaking straight for her, knocking her flying-
What the HELL-
"Sayonara, Catherine-san. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to fight a truly skilled opponent." Murasaki said, before smiling contendedly and stepping out the sliding door, leaving the great Imperial scientist and dark mage Catherine Shaw a quivering mass of bruises on the dojo floor.
Murasaki's wife chided him. "You shouldn't torture the poor girl so; you have no idea what she's going through."
"A little discipline never hurt much, Izumi." Murasaki said ruefully. "Besides, she needed to be taught some measure of respect for her elders."
Izumi paused and stared down her husband. "What are you going to do now that Tara has returned - ? Harumi has been jealous of her ability and gifts for who knows how long, not to mention little Mayuki-chan... we cannot let this tear the family apart..."
Murasaki held his wife closer. "I know, I know. But we cannot set a future for our children... we have to let them choose their own paths. Like birds in the sky, they will eventually learn to fly..."
Tara sighed. She should have known going home with two wanted people - one a former servant of the Imperial Empire, no less! - would have caused it's own share of problems.
"Oneesan?" A small voice said. "Why's your hair all funny now?"
The thief smiled. "Hello, Mayuki."
Her youngest sister did a flying glomp; tackling her older sibling to the floor. "I missed you, oneesan!"
"Ow, watch it." Tara grinned good-naturedly as her little sister's elbows dug into her stomach. "And like the hair?"
As mentioned before, Tara was a redhead. However, that was not her original hair color. It could be noticed that neither Murasaki or Izumi, her parents, had red hair. Tara had chosed to dye her hair red when she left the way of the kunoichi forever, to act as a symbol of shedding her old life and adopting a new one. She was a thief. She had been an Imperial assassin. And frankly, now neither world welcomed her.
"I liked it better black." Mayuki pouted, her eight-year-old frame pinning down her sister. "Why did you leave?"
Tara's voice cracked. "...I... You wouldn't understand." She finished lamely.
"Was Harumi being mean to you again?" The little girl sniffed, burying her face in Tara's stomach. "She's always mean to me. She took my kendo and snapped it in half! Something about little girls not being suited to fight..."
Tara got up, helping her youngest sibling to her feet. "Don't you worry about Harumi. You're all grown up now. You have to learn how to take care of yourself."
"Yeah, I'm all growed up!" Mayuki said, her grasp of Basic still slightly stunted. Tara couldn't help but laugh.
Then running footsteps could be heard. Yells. Alarms.
The thief looked out on the moonlit scene. "What now?"
Patch arrived, the sound of his running having carried over to her. "We're in deep shit."
"What's wrong?" Tara said, holding Mayuki tighter.
"They've blocked off the peninsula." Patch said dully. "They've found us."
Tara did not have to ask who.
Yes, after a long, long period of not being involved in worldly affairs, the small village peninsula of the Ryukin were indeed in deep shit. At first, they did not notice exactly how much shit they were in. It was a brash young kid who had spotted a figure clad in black on one of the pagoda rooftops first, and being the testosterone-charged teenager he was, he had tried to take on the figure himself.
In fact, he was confident enough in doing so, and justly so. He had been trained in the art of the fight since he was seven. He had learned some of the basic Ryukin art, such as the Silence Wall. He knew at least fifty ways of taking someone down with his bare hands.
However, he was no match for the plasma handcannon that fired around five rounds into his torso. Then he saw that it was not just one figure.
Around fifty, in fact, dotted around the rooftops.
He screamed, just as one last plasma salvo tore off the side of his head and he was silenced forever.
"What now?" Murasaki said, heaving his old frame up and grabbing his cane. "I swear, I are getting too old for this-"
The sliding door to his apartment burst open, revealing a BlackOp. An Imperial BlackOp, clad in the nightgear of nearly invisible black against the night and highlights of dark red. An Imperial BlackOp in full gear, including helmet. No doubt the helmet was fitted with nightvision; the faceplate was opaque.
"Now, what would a gentleman like yourself be doing here?" Murasaki said, ignoring the small shiver that went down his back. The Imperial BlackOp elite seemed almost inhuman at times, what with all the gear and weaponry strapped on their person... "Sake? Women? Entertainment?"
"We demand to know the whereabouts of three fugitives you harbor." The BlackOp said, voice coming through a small speaker grille in the 'mouth' of the helmet, processed sound coming out almost as a grating whine.
Murasaki's mouth went dry. "...What fugitives?" However, he had hesitated just too long. The BlackOp hefted its plasma rifle and pointed it at Izumi.
"Surrender the fugitives." The BlackOp continued. "Or we start killing."
Murasaki's mind was in turmoil. His daughter or his wife? The Imperials had never come like this to Ryukin before...
And could he really be faster than a plasma weapon?
He sighed. His life had been a long one. It was time to play dice with it once more. "You want to start killing?" He muttered, barely above his breath. "Try me."
He moved just as the BlackOp's finger tensed on the trigger. Shining blue bolts of plasma streamed outward towards Izumi. Murasaki threw himself in front of the trajectory of the plasma just in time...
"...Shield!" He gasped, using one of the higher levels of Ryukin magic. A purple globe of energy encased him for a few seconds, not much, but the plasma bounced off it uselessly. Murasaki dropped to the floor, gasping. He had forgotten just how much juice that ninja art needed...
Izumi rushed to his side. "Murasaki-"
"Don't." The old man rose to his feet once more, his cane gripped firmly in his knuckles, pushing his wife away from him. "Run! Get away from here!"
"It's useless." The BlackOp said. "We've blocked off the peninsula. Nobody is escaping here." He watched as Izumi fled helplessly. "And everybody in the peninsula is dying unless the fugitives are found."
Murasaki paused, sensing something familiar about this one... "Who are you..."
The BlackOp paused, dropping his heavy plasma rifle, before removing his helmet. A hiss of escaping gas accompanied the removal of headgear.
And Murasaki was left staring at a face from his past. "...You!"
Raven hair. Oddly beautiful features that looked wrong on a male. The same small smile.
"Hello, sensei." Renaku said, drawing his own katana. "It's been a long time."
"You're right." Tara said, peering through the undergrowth across the small, 100-foot wide or so strip of land that separated the peninsula from the mainland. "They've got it locked down. BlackOps crawling everywhere."
"No MEDUSA, though." Patch said, now sporting a plasma rifle. "They shouldn't have come here." He paused. "Something's bothering me, though... we covered our tracks really, really well. How could they have found us?"
Tara shook her red mane. "I told you not to bring that Imperial bitch with us."
"Catherine?"
"She's probably traded us in." Tara sighed. "Us for her status as one of the Imperials once more."
Patch frowned. "She wouldn't do that... would she?"
"Never trust one of them." Tara said icily.
"You didn't see her though." Patch was adamant. "She tried to kill Renaku!"
"Probably all enacted so they could gain our trust." Tara shot back, keeping her voice down as to not attract the attention of the BlackOps only twenty feet or so away. "You know what they're like; you met Rezo yourself."
"And let me note what you said to gain OUR trust." Patch said, this time addressing Tara. "Were you that trustworthy then?"
Tara closed her eyes. "That's different."
Patch pressed on. "How so?"
A new voice spoke, startling them both. "As pleasing as it is to see your confidence in me, I think we should all know the truth."
They both turned to see Catherine, cloaked and hooded in the dark mage garb, her face an impassive mask. "Someone sold us out. Someone told the Imperials we were here. And that person is none other than..." She pushed a bound and gagged form in front of her. "Your dear sister."
Tara's eyes opened wide. "Harumi-!"
Patch sighed. "I should have seen this coming."
Harumi's eyes were brimming with fury, even as Tara removed the gag. "Why did you do it?" She said, almost crying. "Do you hate me that much?"
The younger ninja's eyes gleamed. "You are a disgrace to the Ryukin and our family. You should not have come back. You had the gift for it... you had the ability, and you left. You thought you were better than we were. Just because you had the ability."
Tara's eyes felt hot with tears. "No. It's not like that at all..."
"What ability?" Patch said bluntly. "I have the feeling I'm missing something here..."
Catherine filled the silence. "Out of Murasaki's three daughters, she is the only one to have shown an immediate aptitude for magic," She said tonelessly. "Although the child Mayuki may hold some hidden potential..."
"Get real." Patch grunted. "You're telling me she sold us out because she was JEALOUS?"
"She is a disgraced ninja." Harumi spoke. "She is not deserving of the ability. She left to join the ranks of the Imperial assassins and thieves... murderers, all of them. Just because she could wield magic. True magick. The one commodity that makes the art of the Ryukin seem paltry in comparison."
Tara sobbed, before getting to her feet, and running. Running, always running... away from this world, away...
"Wait-" Patch nearly shouted, before remembering that they were only a few feet away from Imperial BlackOps that wanted them dead or worse. Sighing, he picked up the bound Harumi and hefted her on his back. "We'd better get back and figure out a plan of escape before they start combing the area... I hope you're happy, girl. You just sold out your own sister."
"She is not my sister anymore." Harumi retorted, right before Catherine waved her hand once, and she lost the ability to speak. She opened and closed her mouth, but no sound came out.
Catherine smirked. "Silence."
Tara cried.
Not for the first time either.
She brought out her sai, and gently touched a small red orb in the base of her left blade. It slowly turned a pale ice-blue as her magic shone into it...
You hurt. Shiva said in her mind. I feel your pain.
Tara wiped her face on her sleeve. "I'm sorry. I don't want others to feel my pain. I keep it all inside. I... I... don't want to hurt anyone."
You can only hold it inside for so long. Shiva said. Sage advice from the goddess of ice. Until you break.
"My family... they hate me."
That's not true. Your parents still love you. And look at Mayuki. She missed you when you left.
Tara drew her legs up, hugging her knees and curling up into a tight ball. "And I miss Rain."
The human boy...? Do you hold affection for him, or was it just to fulfill his trust so that you could fulfill your mission? Was your love for him real?
"I don't KNOW!!!" Tara said, out loud, screaming into the night. "I really don't know!"
You are.... confused.
Tara collapsed, breathing heavily. "No shit."
Shiva didn't break poise at the expletive. I can sense your emotion. You don't know which way to turn.
The red-haired girl stared at the dirt, feeling a pair of icy hands place themselves on her shoulders. "I..."
It will work out in the end. Shiva said. ....Look.
Tara turned from her spot on the beach that made up the east side of the Ryukin peninsula to see and hear a distant explosion. "...That's from-"
Yes. The Imperials are here. The Mistress of Winter whispered into her head. You must go.
Tara closed her eyes and closed off the tap of magic into the summon materia, as Shiva's presence faded from her mind. Making a mental note to thank Shiva once more, she concentrated, focusing the magic. It ran through her blood, liquid energy, born from the power of the planet itself since time immemorial. This was her ability. This was her power.
She could use magic.
"....Earth, lend speed to my path, grant me the quickness of the currents untold! Haste!" Magic, true magic, not materia-held magic, but actual magic, swirled around her body, encasing her for a second in gold light.
Tara ran, the world slowing down behind her.
Murasaki coughed painfully as Renaku ground a heel into the small of his back. He wouldn't last long... he was old, however much he liked to take advantage of the respect that earned him, it was a disability in a fight. He wasn't as spry as he once was...
Renaku grabbed the old man, a vicelike grip around his neck, before flinging him casually away, into a wall. The indent he left was sizeable, and the old man dropped once more, limply...
Hand to hand, Renaku was no true match for him. However...
"Flames of the earth, fire of the sun, lend your energy to become an inferno... the perfect blaze! Tri-Fire!"
...in a battle of magic, he was at a true disadvantage.
"Shield!" He gasped, but it was too late. A huge globe of shining flame enveloped him, spontaneously igniting the air within. Murasaki screamed as the fires of the planet itself enveloped him, engulfing him in the warmth of pyrokinetics.
When it was over, the old monk collapsed, taking ragged breaths.
Renaku was still unharmed. "You know what they call me now? A ronin. A dishonoured samurai." He rolled the word 'ronin' over his tongue slowly, as if savoring the taste. Then he spat. "I am commander of the Imperial forces, I am an elite BlackOp trooper. What is dishonorable about that!"
"...You forsake the teachings of the Ryukin-"
"And your own daughter didn't?" Renaku hissed. "She has now trained her capability in magic to a high degree, and her full potential has yet to be unlocked."
"Tara..." Murasaki spoke through cracked, fire-seared lips. "She is not yours to judge!"
Renaku flicked a patch of ash off his BlackOp uniform. "No matter. We will find her, the terrorist, and the traitor soon enough."
"You talk of being a traitor?" Murasaki laughed, although it hurt his lungs. He coughed blood. "What happened to your old friends in the Zero-Seven, ronin? Rezo pay more than most?"
Renaku sheathed his sword. "You are not worthy to die by my blade." He picked up the plasma rifle from where it had fallen and primed it. "I shall kill you with this instead to prove the superiority of modern technology over your pitiful monk arts."
"...Fire..." Murasaki shuddered. "So beautiful..."
Renaku paused. "Any last words?"
"....flame... take me alive, consume my soul, let my last act be performed as an act of sacrifice... grant me the fire, grant me the fire of death, for there can be no life without death...."
Renaku's eyes widened. "What are you doing-!"
"...and death, I dance with you, amidst the flames..." Murasaki drew a breath, hoping he could finish this. He had to. For his family. For the honor of the Ryukin. For the sake of ridding the world of this ronin. "...FIRE DANCE!!!"
Flames, not orange, but as red as blood, erupted from the old man, tripling in size, surrounding him. Spinning wildly, Murasaki headed for Renaku, as the fire began to consume his soul.
Burning alive.
Fire filled the room.
And yet Murasaki did not scream. He did not fear death, he welcomed it, he courted the flames that seared him from every angle.
Renaku's eyes widened, as the burning Murasaki lunged for him, holding him in a vicelike grip around the torso. He was knocked over, and yelled as the fires that burned the old man began to eat through his body armor...
-Impossible-
Kicking the burning body away from him, Renaku raised the plasma rifle and let rip. However, the streaks of blue blended into the red and were lost, the body of flame coming towards him, finally gripping Renaku around the neck, the grip searing his flesh where it touched.
Renaku snarled. No way was he dying at the hands of his teacher-
Drawing his sword, in one smooth motion, he stabbed it through. The burning Murasaki seemed almost to gasp, before he took his last breath, Renaku's sword finding the old man's heart.
A little girl strode through the death and destruction. The Ryukin had held. They had denied holding fugitives, denied in the face of death, all of them. Every last man and woman. And for that, the order had been given to kill.
Bodies of women holding children, men with mouths still open where plasma had scored holes throught their corpses; it was a short fight. Everywhere, people died.
And through it all Mayuki walked, forlorn and scared.
"...Otosan...?" (Daddy?) She spoke. "....Otosan?" A long and pitiful wail, one of a child alone in the world.
Two BlackOp dropped down from the roof ahead of her. Behind them, Mayuki could see the house of her parents, the dojo, on fire. Still burning from the TriFire spell.
Her eyes grew wet with tears. "Have you two seen my okaasan?" (mother)
"Should we kill her?" One BlackOp said. He was taller.
The shorter BlackOp shook his head. "She's just a kid. What can she do?"
"Excuse me, mister..." Mayuki repeated, on the verge of crying. "Where is my father?"
The taller BlackOp turned away. "Let's go. Renaku wants us to finish combing this place. Whole damn night's been a waste, nobody's found nothing yet."
The shorter BlackOp sighed. "You go on ahead. I've got something to... uh... take care of."
"You're a sucker for kids, you know that?" The taller one said. "This is why you're still not promoted yet. You can't follow orders."
"I didn't see orders to kill every kid I see!" The shorter one shot back. "Just because I have a heart doesn't mean I can't be a BlackOp!"
The taller BlackOp coughed uncomfortably. "Dude, we're trained to kill. We're made to kill. Our gear is made for the purpose of killing people more efficiently. We are the death-dealers."
"Fuck off." The shorter one said, kneeling down, face-to-face with the girl. "...I'm sure your father is fine."
The taller one took off. "I'm getting the fuck outa here."
As Mayuki stared into the helmet of the BlackOp, the man got the feeling that he just couldn't lie to this girl. He just couldn't. Innocent eyes in a childish face... He couldn't kill her, he couldn't lie to her-
"My daddy is dead, isn't he?" It was more of a statement than a question.
The BlackOp drew back, shocked. "What makes you say that?"
Mayuki pointed at the dojo. "That's my home."
The BlackOp paused. "...I'm sorry, kid, but that's just the way it is. ...I just follow orders, that's my job. Even though I don't think they're that... right sometimes."
"Why do you follow orders if they're not right?" The little girl said.
For once, the smart-aleck BlackOp had no answer.
Then a practice kendo sword caught him on the shoulder and he was flung over sideways. More shocked than anything else, he turned to the attack-
-to see an old woman, standing protectively in front of the little girl.
"You stay the HELL away from my daughter! You... you MONSTER!!!" The old woman could not have been a day younger than seventy, yet a fire was in her eyes that would have made anybody in her right mind step back.
"Look, I'm sorry, it's my job-"
The old woman stepped forward, way too fast, and struck him in the face, the wooden kendo sword cracking his faceplate. "You... murderer! Beast!"
The BlackOp raised up his hands to defend himself, but he was facing the righteous fury of a mother protecting her child. And against that there was no defence.
"I'll kill you! You..." Tears appeared in her eyes. "I won't let you hurt her! You'll have to go through me-"
Then three plasma bolts hit her. One in the stomach, one in the chest, and one in her left hand. She collapsed, the kendo sword falling from limp fingers. Mayuki cried out as her mother Izumi fell.
"You okay?" The taller BlackOp had returned. He was the one who had fired. He was laughing. "Damn, man, she was an old woman, and she was kicking your ass!"
The shorter BlackOp stood, slowly. "......yeah."
He had no idea why he felt... guilty.
Mayuki knelt at the side of her mother, crying now. "...Okaasan...! Wake up, okaasan! ....please, please... just wake up!"
Izumi Tetsuya drew a ragged breath. ".....Mayuki-chan... I'm... I'm proud... of you...." Her head lolled sideways, and then she was gone.
"Damn bitch... they're all so goddamn skilled..." Taller said. "You should see Josh in Bravo team, one of the girls over the other side shoved one of those pointy star things in him. Went right through his armor. He returned the favor, shoving something else in her..." He laughed.
The shorter BlackOp closed his eyes. Why did he feel so.... strange? Like his heart was about to rip in two... Whirling, he hit his partner with enough force to send him sprawling.
"DAMN, that fucking HURT, you bastard!"
The other BlackOp closed his eyes. "I can't do this anymore." And taking off his helmet, he raised his plasma pistol to the side of his own head.
The zap of plasma rang through the clearing, only accompanied by the crackling of flame.
"...fucking crazy bastard..." The other BlackOp said, before picking himself up and leaving, the two bodies and one young girl left behind.