LUCKY THIRTEEN
The day had come.
Sakaki grudgingly walked down the long line of gates around Raven's Flat. Somewhere, one of birds crowed loudly, harshly. The hunter jumped at the sound, but settled quickly. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his pale green jacket and kicked a pebble down the sidewalk.
Miss Karasuma and the Chief would be pissed. An hour late. Still, after everything had been said and done, after all the plans had been made, Sakaki had to lose the goth/industrial look. The man had to admit it, but Karasuma was right about never being able to live it down. Doujima would tease and taunt Haruto for even showing up in anything industrial. That, and the look had only started for Sakaki once everything else began.
He yawned big. Sakaki hoped the Chief and Karasuma wouldn't have anything planned for the day. After telling Geoff what had happened, Sakaki had to sit through long lectures of protocol before the entire group made some breakfast and continued talks and planning until long after dawn. Bags hung under his eyes, dark little ringlets showing the man's blatant exhaustion. Sakaki prayed he could catch some sleep in the office, maybe even an hour or two.
Even the elevator seemed tired and slow to Haruto, dragging on.
Finally, the elevator stopped at the office floor, letting Haruto off. The hunter folded his arms over his head, resting his wrists on the top of his head. Michael gave him a slight wave without looking up from his computer. Haruto smiled but continued on to his desk, to plop down in the swivel chair and prop his legs on the desk.
He cracked open an eye to look at the others and see what was going on and assess the possibilities of sleep. Doujima sat by Michael, her head buried in a trashy romance novel. Michael typed away furiously at his keyboard.
And Karasuma?
Karasuma sat at her desk, her head buried in files. Every few moments, however, the empath kept glancing up at Sakaki, worry in her eyes. Tiny beads of sweat glistened on the woman's forehead. She was afraid, afraid of Sakaki. Soon, Karasuma just rose and left, walking as fast as she could.
'She knows.'
Sakaki took his cell phone and started dialing.
xxxx
"Concentrate!"
Robin flopped to the ground, writhing under Amon's hold. His long, strong arms wrapped around her, holding the teenage girl, but not painfully so. The former hunter pinned the girl down to the soft, mellow earth. She had lost another round.
"Are you ready to start focusing?"
The girl gritted her teeth. "Apparently not."
Amon gave a slight chuckle, the first time Robin had actually heard anything resembling a laugh escape the man's lips in ages, if ever. It even brought a smile to the tired girl's face, suddenly reassured by the light heartedness in her partner. He slipped from above her and let the girl up.
"What has you in such a pleasantly strict mood?" Robin asked, wiping the dirt from her pale face.
Amon gave a coy grin. "We're going back to work tonight."
xxxx
The phone never rang at Nocturne during the day.
Not ever.
The dance hall, bar, and club were empty. They'd been empty for hours. The phone's incessant ring echoed and reverberated along the wooden rafters of Purgatory, further illustrating the point. The barren hall that had once been filled the night before with the hustle and bustle of the Tokyo industrial underground lay abandoned in the daylight. Only the mournful ringing of the phone traversed the wooden dance floors.
It rang on and on.
Somewhere, in the loft above the club, a person moaned, groaning as they rolled over the silence the ringing phone.
One of the fairies, dancers from Heaven, rolled out of her bed and onto bare feet. The night had been long and hard. Day was not meant for waking; day was meant for sleeping. Blearily, the girl trudged from her bed across the floor of the loft to the phone, and took it up from the cradle.
She answered groggily. "If you don't want to die, make it good."
Sakaki's voice answered. "Kathain, we've got problems. Wake everyone up."
"What?" the girl asked in return, startled by the hunter's urgency.
"Just do it."
xxxx
"Sakaki…"
Robin couldn't believe the words coming out of Amon's mouth. But, with the way the man stood over the kitchen table, over his guns, the girl had to believe him. Amon had grown quiet, very businesslike and professional, cleaning his guns and loading clips. He was an assassin, a samurai charged with killing his own friend. He was the essence of the warrior, carrying out a plan that would otherwise seem as betrayal, but a necessary one. Robin drew in a sharp breath at the sight of Amon's Orbo bullets, the last of their kind. The man meant business.
"Amon, those are... witch killing bullets." She whispered the words sadly; the girl wondered what would become of Sakaki after the end of this. "Amon, what are you planning to do to him?"
The hunter slid a fresh clip of Orbo bullets into his gas gun and checked it carefully. "That will depend entirely on what he does."
"But, it's Sakaki," Robin argued, placing a hand on his wrist.
The hunter looked up at her suddenly, no emotion in his eyes or features at all, just perfect, machine-like drive. "Robin." Her hand fell away. "If he has done what Karasuma says, if Sakaki has betrayed the STN, this is not the Sakaki we knew. We do not know what he is capable of." The girl blinked, but Amon just set the gun in its holster. "I understand you still consider Sakaki a friend. You may stay here if you wish."
Robin placed her glasses on her face. "I'd rather be there. I need to see for myself."
xxxx
Nocturne lay still.
Sakaki jumped up and down, trying to peer into the windows. The dance floor was still and empty. Not a soul stirred in the club. The hunter pounded on the door, drumming on the hard wood with a frustrated blow.
"C'mon!" Sakaki's phone rang in his pocket; he answered swiftly. "God, Geoff!"
"Back door."
xxxx
"He's on the phone with someone named Geoff."
Karasuma nodded, watching from where she sat in the black sedan as the man in the green coat ran around to the back of the club down a side alley. She had already known where Sakaki was heading, even without Michael's trace. The empath didn't need the hacker's bug to figure out exactly where Sakaki would go. It was common sense at this point. She only wanted to know for certain.
She squeezed her cell phone harder. "Thank-you, Michael."
"He sounded hurried, frightened even," the hacker noted.
Karasuma's hand lingered over her gas gun, fingering the cool metal of pistol. "I know."
"What are you going to do?" the man on the other end of the phone inquired.
"What for backup."
xxxx
It took a few moments to wake everyone up, but, soon, they were gathering.
Sakaki had never been invited into the loft above Nocturne. Now, standing in the massive apartment over the club, he could see why the group had chosen this place to set up their main home. He knew this was just as temporary as anything else had been for them, but this felt like home. Even to the wary hunter, the loft felt comforting. It was sparsely decorated with a few, Asian accents, such as a bamboo plant here, a fountain there. Tall windows allowed light to pour in.
They stumbled from bedrooms only to sprawl out on the few, strangely cream colored couches. Sakaki watched them.
The first out where Nycole and Kathain, giggling like school girls. They were the fairies. They spent their nights in the club performing strange stage acts, generally involving some sort of skill toy like poi or glowsticks. The two redheads were like twin systems, with sparkling blue eyes. However, Kathain was slighter taller and thinner, so scrawny that her bones seemed to stick out unnaturally under her red tank top and flannel pajamas. Her red hair was darker, with a coppery tint, longer, thicker, and curlier. It cascaded about halfway down her back like liquid fire, in large waves.
Nycole, not far behind, being that they shared a room, had slightly more rounded features, befitting her Irish-Scottish heritage. Her hair was shorter and straight, a brighter red like Mary Jane Watson. She smirked and giggled as the pair plopped onto the sofa.
Then, there were the gents, Geoff, Brett, and Kristo.
Brett was the middle sized of the three. He worked as a bouncer and bartender from time to time in Nocturne. His hair remained unnaturally ebony, without dye of any form. It was long for him. A thin beard of scruff had formed from going a few days without shaving. His eyes shone in greenish-blue, but sometimes, just sometimes, when the light was just right, they changed.
And, there was Kristo. He walked on a shorter, built frame, with long, straight locks of black hair, black as midnight, and sharp, blue eyes. The man had instinctively drawn his katana upon hearing the news, carrying the handmade weapon. Sakaki cringed, knowing the man had probably hidden far more firearms on his person, tucked away in his coat somewhere.
"You getting ready for battle, Kristo?" Kathain joked.
"It's war already, isn't it Sakaki?"
The hunter sighed. "Yes."
xxxx
Check it out- Robin and Amon are back in the swing of things. But what does this mean for Sakaki and that ragtag band at Nocturne? Secrets, secrets, secrets. Sorry, but I'm apparently REALLY mean to my audience.