(Cliffhangers keep you reading further entries, don't they, Yamal? And thank you ever so much for your generous support, Yamal, Forgotten, HHoD, and other silent readers who've made it this far! But I have still so much to do for this work before it can truly be called finished. RR as always, thank you.

(-Godhand's Number-)

34

"Yune!" Tara yelled. "Do you have to be so damn combative?"

Robin was as good as fired; she was sure of it. Bottles were strewn all over the bar, littering the floor in dangerous shards and pieces. The beverages they once held mingled with drops and smears of crimson. The front window was blown out completely. When the girl's boss saw the destruction around, she was certain that she was out of a job!

"Did the whole damn place have to jump me…?" Yune breathed heavily. "No! But that sure a hell didn't stop them!"

The Mark punk finally completed his trip over the bar top, slipping to the hard floor in a broken heap with a firm plop. The didgeridoo player followed his example; gravity tugged at him, yanking him off his chair and onto the floor. Liquid, the blood and the lager merged together-yucky liquid leapt off the tabletop simply to splash back down.

"After all that Robin did for us!" Her fists met her hips in record time. "After all her kindness and generosity, this is how you repay her? MEN! What in God's name is wrong with all of you?"

"I told you the whole bar jumped me!" Yune stumbled back on his own feet. "It's a miracle I'm still standing…!"

"Oh good Lord!" Robin exclaimed over that jingling bell, the clacking of her mules following her right in. "What has happened? The bar is trashed!"

"Go on, Yune!" she huffed. "Tell her! Why -is- the bar trashed-huh?"

"For the third time tonight," he sighed lightly, "the whole klezmer tried to come down on me like a damn anvil! I barely managed to fight them off-till this iron giant of a man stormed out of the back! To tell the truth-I haven't faced a truly skilled opponent in a long time! Though he did throw me around the place a couple times like I was doll."

"Excuse me!" Robin frowned. "That giant of man is my older brother!"

"What?" those almond eyes blinked.

"You have heard me right, Yune!" the dark girl huffed. "His name is Joshua, and I love him almost as I love Shia! He is the only family I got in this country! He even fixed your car when I inquired!"

"-Oops!" was the only thing the Asian could muster.

"OOPS?" she growled. "You trash her brother and get her fired in the process, and all you can say is oops? What the hell's wrong with you, Bin-Mok!"

"I'm not going to argue with you," the Korean took in a deep breath, "since I know I'll never win."

"Oh-friends…!" Robin sighed. "Let us not fight anymore."

"Huh?" She blinked. "You're not mad?"

"Well, I am miffed-as you would say-that the bar is trashed." The Ethiopian said collectedly. "But there are more important things at hand."

"How's your brother?" He asked.

"He will make it." The girl replied. "He is simply out cold. He has been through worse! He helped protect our village from bandits about a couple months before he came here. He was injured pretty badly, but Joshua had pulled through to my relief. After that, a mere bar fight is not going to do him in any time soon."

"Oh!" she said.

"A do not worry about the bar, my friend." Robin smiled weakly.

"Now why's that?" he asked.

"Because you are the ones who are going to help me clean this place up!" the dark girl chuckled. "Spotless, I might add!"

"I'm not exactly wearing the right shoes for that…!" She noted, grinding her slick toe gently into the floor.

"What?" Robin shrugged. "And you think I am? No, but do you think a little thing like that is going to stop me?"

"So this is what I got nice for!" she grinned bitterly. "Janitor duty!"

"It should not be hard labor, Tara." Robin stretched her neck out a bit. "So quit whining!"

"I like whining!"

"Tara…!" Yune frowned.

"Fine…!" she sighed.

"There's one little thing I have to do before we can start." Yune said smugly, patting his hand on the curly top's head. "Isn't that right-SHIA!"

"What…?" Yune yanked that curly top off the table, along with the rest of his head-only to smack it back down on the bar top! "OW! My nose!"

His warm smile dropped, his soft eyes hardened into stone. The portal to the fifth dimension opened before her very eyes as Yune reverted back to his old self, back when he was with that disgusting private army. She could picture him easily in the right side of an interrogation room. He looked so callous, so malevolent, and so ruthless that he'll do just about anything, say anything to get the job done. It reminded her of….

"Isn't this fun…?" he grinned with somewhat of a familiar, maniacal glee. "Just like old times! Isn't that right, Shia?"

Shia couldn't answer, Yune didn't give him time when he smacked his head against the bar top again. A few crimson drops leapt of Bonnet's face, slapping down upon the dark bar top in a reddish spot no bigger than a two-pound piece.

"-OH-" Bonnet groaned, his fingers mashing against his poor nose. "WHAT THE FUCK, MAN?"

Yune sized him by the curly locks again, forcing his nose against the top harshly.

"You're not a caveman, Shia!" Yune smirked. "Sure, you're French-but don't curse in front of the ladies!"

"FUCK YOU, BIN-MOK!" Shia couldn't finish again as his head met the top again. "GOD! WILL YOU CUT THAT OUT?"

"Fuck me?" Yune blinked mockingly. "Fuck you, Bonnet!"

"What the shit do you want?" Shia's face met the bar top again. "-OW-"

"I told you about that cussing crap, Bonnet!"

"Yune…!" She said softly. "Isn't this being a little extreme…?"

"I have to agree with Tara, Yune." Robin seconded. "I know Shia has done terrible things, but I do not believe he deserves this."

"Ladies," he replied, "I'd like you to wait outside for us-fine gentleman! If Bonnet here doesn't loose those lips, then it's going to get a little messy!"

"But Mr. Bin-Mok!"

"Robin," she held up her hand, "from what I learned, it's better just to let him do his thing. But Yune…!"

"Yes, T?" he pursed his thin lips.

"Just… remember what he talked about today, okay?" she asked. "For me…?"

"I'll see what I can do." He nodded. "Just wait for me."

"Okay." She nodded back.

"How very touching!" Shia said bitterly-for a second while Yune made his head do its thing against the bar top. "-OW-"

"Come on, Rob." She spun carefully on her heels. "We'll sit in the car."

"All right." The girl said. "If we must."

-

"Well, Kimberly," that poison of the human race said rather casually, "this is it."

Kimberly wasn't sure whether to be disturbed at the slightest or not. Everything around her, the nasty room that contained her, the freak on rolling tracks that did its very sincerest to make her a special stain on the nasty walls, it lost its clammy, chilling grip upon her as the thugs chained her up for the third time in 36 hours. Stick face gladly helped, suggesting chains over rope with hearty gusto. After this, if there even was the possibility, she wasn't sure anything would stun her in the least anymore.

The man who jaded her walked slowly up to her, wrapped loosely in a ridiculous cape that draped from his small shoulders to just an inch off of the icky floor, swathed in that same ridiculous pomposity of his late father. Young Drazen gradually was regaining his -hairy- disposition that made him renowned among his twisted little family; those thick, brown strands triumphed only by those long, sharp shards. What she wouldn't have done for her hair to grow like that.

"Cut the crap, Grizzly Adams!" she huffed. "What do you want -now?"

"You'll know in a second, Possible!" he frowned back. "And as much as the men here at the Organ Grinder have enjoyed your -foxy- personality, Kim, I regret-not really, actually-to inform you that your -services- are no longer necessary!"

"Like I actually wanted to help you goons!" she spat. "As if!"

"Indeed…." He sighed. "Anyway!"

"Who are you-stick face?" she sneered. "Whatever you have to say, just say it already!"

"Didn't you listen to me, Possible?" he straightened himself, puffing his chest out. "Or did Galil bite off your ears? I already told you; your services are no longer needed. Which means you're no longer useful to me…!"

"So this is it, huh?" she exclaimed. The chains rattled distinctly as she squirmed against them, but the clasps held tight. "Fine! Much like you, I'm getting sick and tired of being executed by some flunky! If you're going to kill me-then kill me! Nothing fancy, nothing over-the-top! Just whip out your little pea-shooter and drill one between my running lights!"

"Now, on any other day, I wouldn't mind acceding to your demand-as ridiculous as it sounds!" Drazen smirked barely. "But I'm afraid I don't have much time, and bullets are precious little pieces of material I can't afford to waste anymore! Big things are happening, Possible, happening to this entire region whether you or the rest of the Muslim menace like it or not. It's a shame that I didn't bother to have a TV installed in this room, because you're not going to see it happen."

"What're you going to do to me…?" she demanded.

"What am I going to do to you?" Drazen blinked. "What am -I- going to do to you? I'm afraid that you're mistaken, wench; it's not -I- that you should be worried about. But rather-what -he's- going to do to you!"

Tank Man growled hungrily just as the major pain gestured toward it. It leered at her greedily, lustfully. It wanted to have its way with her; she could feel it shaking her to the core. Chills ran their icy touch up her back, tickling her skin with frost as it let out another growl. She winced as its claw snapped at her, seemingly from all directions.

"Oh… boy!" the metal-head grinned. "Won't that be fun? I wish I could be here when Galil finally chews your head off, but I can't. I got shit to do!"

"You got shit to do?" she hissed. "How appropriate, coming from King Shit himself!"

"Major Drazen, Sir," the stick-face himself tore his eyes away, "why must we carry on like this? She's put us through enough! Isn't it best to simply take her suggestion and end it right now?"

"Don't you have some orders to give, Eli?" The head punk frowned.

"I already did, Sir." The stick face replied. "It has already begun; the gears are in motion. Things are going smoothly, Sir, though morale's a little lower than average. But once everything starts coming together, it shouldn't be a problem."

"Good." He nodded. "Make sure it doesn't."

"Yes sir."

"What are you doing?" she demanded. "What are you planning?"

"What's that you say?" the metal-head threw it back. "What am I planning? Come on! Don't insult my intelligence! You should know by now that there's no free lunch with me!"

"I'm going to die anyway." she eased. "What's the harm?"

"Still using all the muscles except the one that matters-shikse?" Drazen replied. A strange kink for a strange brow, it was. "Considering all this time you've spent, tracking me, chasing me, escaping from me and yet you no nothing of my intentions-Dreck! You're as bad at that meddlesome North Korean!"

"Yune!" she gasped. "What did you do with him?"

"Don't tear your head off over it, Possible." He shrugged. "Galil will do that for you. Bin-Mok and his trophy girlfriend got away from me-with certain frustration, I might add. Almost had him, but I guess it wasn't meant to be. Yet just thinking about him brings up something in me that I seemed to have forgotten about!"

"What's that?" she asked suspiciously.

"Back in Prague," he narrowed his eyes, "during your mind-boggling getaway, there was someone with you… wasn't there?"

"I don't know what you're talking about!"

"Don't give me that crap, bitch!" he growled-and he shot the stick-man a dirty look. The cape whooshed dramatically, a lengthy piece of it pleating into itself as his good arm shoved it behind his shoulder. Her heart jumped as his hand met the grip of his Desert Eagle. Velcro ripped as he jerked it out of its nest. "We wouldn't be talking right now, if you think about it! But no…! Apparently, some of us can't tie a knot properly! Isn't that right-Eli…?"

"But Sir, I!" Eli couldn't reply properly.

"Is that why you're so eager to kill her?" Drazen continued. "She got away from you, made you look like an idiot in front of everyone! And now that same insult is hanging right in front of you, mocking you still as you string her up. You just can't stand that, can you?"

"Sir…." Eli was at a loss for words.

"Don't worry too much over it." He shrugged. "I've been there myself not too long ago. You hate losing as much as I do, I bet."

"Actually," the stick man shrugged back, "that's pretty much it, Sir! You've hit the nail on the head, as it were!"

"I did." The punk affirmed. Like father like son. Drazen was so full of himself that he was practically choking on his pride. If he didn't puke, she'd do it for him wholeheartedly. "Didn't I. But as I was saying-bitch!"

"Here we go…!" she sighed.

"There was a certain someone with you back in Prague, wasn't there?" he gazed at her seriously. His cape tailed him dramatically while he walked to her, as though he meant something powerfully by it. A familiar staccato clicked in her ears as the punk thumbed the claw hammer. "A boy, yes? Blond hair, flat, a dirty mat that always looks plastered to his head, does it not?"

"Ask a stupid question, Uzi." She sneered.

"Stupid or not, I get an answer nonetheless." He frowned. "I remember it clear as day; he took out some good men. Surely my 'copter would have done him in, but after seeing everybody's favorite piece of -kimchi- today, I'm not so sure anymore. I could have relaxed a bit more if I simply blew his brains out when I had the chance!"

"So what the hell do you want me to do about it?" she shot angrily. "Pat you on the head, and tell you everything's okay?"

"Is he alive?" he asked. "And I'm only going to ask you twice more."

"Is who alive?" she batted it back.

"Eli, today's your lucky day." Her spine tingled intensely as Drazen pushed that cannon of a pistol against her head, right between her eyes like she suggested. "You tell me now, bitch, I'll promise this bullet will save you a lot of grief. This is your second chance: is your blond buffoon alive?"

"Piss off!" she spat.

"One last chance, Possible!" he frowned. Her teeth pressed together tightly when her ears caught the chilling click of the safety catch. "Are you sure that you don't want to tell me? Where is that blond buffoon?"

"Where is he?" she glared back. "Up your ass, Uzi! That's where he is! I'm sure a good proctologist can find him after he yanks your big head out first!"

Drazen took in a breath of fouled air, letting it out slowly while the huge muzzle slipped off her forehead deliberately. He dropped the eagle back into its narrow nest irritably. That strange head of his shook exasperatedly as the cloak flowed back over his shoulder.

"Eli, I guess it's not your day after all." He said. "Sorry! But don't worry about it, bitch. I'm sure Tank Man will chomp it out of you soon enough."

"I'd rather die!" she barked.

"Don't worry!" He chuckled. "You will-much to my satisfaction! But you're beginning to bore me, Possible. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some important matters to attend to. Eli, you know what to do with her. Give her the time of her life, you understand?"

"Yes Sir!" the stick-man saluted.

"Good." The ridiculous cloak rippled in the thick air as Drazen spun for the door. "If you need me, just radio."

"Will Do!"

What she wouldn't give if the inadvertently aforementioned were to smash down that nasty, squeaky door just for her. With several hardnosed men dressed in those tacky fatigues, guns blazing, watching streamers and ribbons of crimson flow generously out of Drazen's back. He'd fall to the dirty ground in a broken heap, at the feet of that stringy, bronzed Asian, tightly wrapped in that tawdry GJ garb. Not exactly the way she dreamed of being rescued, but she'd take what the powers that be threw at her… even if it did come shrouded in a ragged, threadbare cape with a large, nasty sickle clenched in its bony fingers.

"Have fun, kids!" Drazen laughed as he strolled out the door, his tin knee squealing just as loud as the hinges. That stupid cape waved her a final goodbye as the punk turned the corner, squeaking his way out through the next doorway.

"Don't worry, we will!" Eli called, just before he turned for her. His bony cheeks were flush with pride, conceit oozing from him in thick globs. "Well, 96, are you ready to begin again?"

"I don't want to hear it, stick-face!" she spat. "Whatever you're going to do, just do it!"

"Yes ma'am!" his mouth went wide with toothy grin yet those dark knots on his face did not. Creepy….

-

Though only the clock told her in bright green that a half hour had passed, it felt like Yune had been inside for well over an hour. From Tara's plush curbside seat, Zanzibar looked something out of a riot that had come and gone, the looters and infuriated partakers chased off by Johnny Law and friends. It would take some serious hours to clean everything up, but she couldn't do anything till someone emerged.

"What the hell's taking so long?" she thought aloud.

"I do not know, Tara…." Robin sniffed. The dark girl was obviously shaken, fidgeting in the driver's seat, leather squelching as she wringed the wheel tightly. The key gleamed at her hauntingly from the ignition. Maybe it was a mistake letting her take the wheel after all. "I just wish I knew…."

"I don't think you should worry about it too much." She said softly. "Sure Yune's a little rough around the edges, and he doesn't have much fashion sense. But deep down, he really is a sweetheart who wouldn't hurt a fly… much."

"Do you really know that for certain?" Robin turned to her. Her dark eyes glistened wetly in the dull streetlight. "Has he ever raised his skilled hand against you?"

"Well, he does give me a love tap on the head when I did something wrong!" she shrugged. "But he's Korean-born and raised! So it's not like I wasn't expecting it."

"You know what I mean." The girl said gravely.

"No, he has not." She shook her head furiously. "He swore to me he wouldn't! And if he ever did, he gave me his permission to leave him. Then again, I don't want to leave him at all. Though we've been going out for a short time now, I feel like he's my best friend I ever had! I don't want anything bad to happen to him! It'd break my heart…."

"Such is like being in love." The dark girl nodded. "Now you know how I feel."

"Don't worry, Robin." She leaned close to her. "I'm certain Shia will come out alive!"

"And how do you know this?" the girl asked honestly.

"I just have a feeling, you know." She shrugged. "Like a premonition or something. I can't explain how I know, I just do."

"Perhaps you watch too much television." Robin chuckled weakly. "Those shows about psychos might be playing with your head, Tara."

"I think you mean psychic." She corrected.

"Right." The girl nodded. "Them too!"

"AND THIS ONE'S FOR YOKO!" Her man's shout was so loud it blew across the street.

The bloodied front door of the trashed bar banged open as the man of the hour planted his face square against the unflinching street. Bonnet looked like he had been thrown into a machine, a wood chipper almost. His curly top deflated, curly locks plastered against his reddened scalp. Blood trickled down from his sockets, his nose, and his mouth; dripping onto the street in a little, crimson blob. The trails of red gave color to the large contusions dappling his boyish face, black and blue spots about a square inch in size. A haze of red puffed out of his bloody mouth when he coughed.

"Oh… FUCK!" Bonnet cursed with a haggard breath.

"You're about to get fucked in a minute, Bonnet!" Yune said loudly as he stalked out of the bar. "Didn't I tell you about cussing in front of the ladies?"

"YUNE!" Sadie rocked barely as Tara and the dark girl leapt out. The impetus of each door slamming back into the body canceled each other out, the SUV barely quivering at all. "WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO HIM?"

"BACK OFF, T!" He shouted back. That gentle gaze he was known for back home was gone, those dark almonds locked in a furious glare. He was so hot, it froze her to the core, shaking her as though he had reached out with those strong limbs and grabbed her. "THIS DOESN'T CONCERN YOU-BOTH OF YOU!"

"Bullshit!" she cursed loudly. "THE HELL THIS DOESN'T CONCERN US! DIDN'T YOU LISTEN TO ANYTHING I SAID?"

"Tara, you know I love you!"

"Do I really?" she spat, folding her arms crossly. "After this, Yune-I'm not even sure I can believe anything you said! If you don't listen to me, then why should I even believe anything that comes out of your mouth?"

"Tara!" he growled.

"I told you, Yune…!" she growled back. "I told you not to hurt him. I thought you were the better man-but I guess I was wrong! Maybe your days with that disgusting outfit isn't behind as I thought! "

"Tara…!" he glared pointlessly. "You back up a minute!"

"Why should I, Yune?" she demanded. "WILL IT DISTRACT YOU FROM YOUR HANDIWORK? YOU'RE GOING TO KILL HIM, YUNE! DO YOU HONESTLY WANT THAT?"

"I HAVE HALF THE MIND TO DO MORE THAN THAT, T!" He shouted back. "I'LL TEAR HIS FUCKING HEAD OPEN!"

"Why, Yune?" she frowned. "What'd he ever do to deserve this…? You tell me…! Give me one good reason!"

"DO YOU REALLY WANT TO KNOW, T?" he shouted back. She could have sworn those almond eyes went slick with fresh water. "DO YOU?"

"Yes…!" she nodded.

"Fine…!' he growled bitterly. "Paris-France-well over a year ago-assigned by Colonel Drazen himself to help the French Fries quell fighting between the Jews and the Muslims after several violent riots! My girlfriend-fiancée was assigned to my squad. While conducting a search for a violent murder-also known as this piece of shit!"

Another red cloud puffed out of Shia's mouth when Yune kicked him in the side. The clopping of Robin's mules was soft against the asphalt. The pointy toes swiveled the rest of her body away from the grotesquerie. Her frizzy ponytail swished somberly while one of her dark hands cupped over her mouth. It was by the grace of God that she wasn't all over the North Korean like flames lapping on an 80-proof drink.

"He hit!" Yune continued soberly, solemnly. "One thing lead to another, T, and the whole team…."

Just because he almost killed the poor SOB at her feet didn't mean his heart withered and crumbled into blackened dust. She could see it easily as the man drew a finger underneath his nose.

"And I lost them, Tara…!" He sniffed. "Everybody! I messed up-even with all my experience! Yoko-she was…!"

"Oh!" Shia's indifferent laugh came out haggardly. "I recalled that Jap had some rhythm… busted some serious moves when she finally went into her final shakes-OH!"

Someone had tapped a blocky heel against the curly top's crotch. She wasn't going to say whom!

"Shut up, Bonnet!" she snapped. "Just be grateful Robin's here!"

"After you…!" the punk coughed.

"Yune…!" Shia polluted her eyes long enough, ripping them away from the SOB and planting them where they really belonged. "I'm sorry…!"

"Don't be…." He barely shook his head.

"No, Yune." She shook her head. "I mean it. I'm sorry that I got in your face about him, considering, but please understand that killing him isn't going to help anything!"

"I know that, T." he sighed, and he took a squat upon his heels beside the human road-kill. Like an ape, he prodded and poked the rotting piece of meat with stern finger. "Despite my throbbing id, that is. But that's where you're going to come in, isn't that right, Bonnet…?"

"Go to hell, Bin-Mok!" Shia spat a thick wad of scarlet. Bubbles inflated and popped instantaneously as it slapped the undulated grains of the street, sinking in between them.

"Trust me, Shia." He replied sardonically. "You're -way- in the lead on that race!"

"Friends!" Robin spun quickly back around on the slick balls of her feet. What little tears had escaped her eyes left their sticky mark upon her round cheeks. Her hands wringed tensely, taking turns capping atop each other simply to keep them busy. "I must protest! I simply cannot stand idly by while a little more of Shia's life slips away at your hands! I know of the harm he has caused you and I apologize on his behalf, but I must insist that you do not raise up your hands against him any more. He is hurt enough, and I do not believe that he can survive it!"

"I understand that, Robin." He nodded. "But the sooner Mr. Bonnet here sings for me, the sooner we can be out of his hair. Right Bonnet?"

"Whatever, fool!" the beaten man spat again. "Do your worst!"

"Shia, why do we have to be at each others throats-huh?" Yune asked rhetorically, poking him against that big, curly head of his. "Though you've killed my FRIENDS, it doesn't have to always be like this, you know! Or maybe you're just one of those people who're addicted to conflict. Then again, why would that be? Does it somehow bring meaning into that pathetic life of yours or something, huh?"

Bonnet growled as irritably as his broken heap of flesh in its entirety would let him.

"Yune…." She said sternly.

"Huh?" The Asian pressed on. "Do you even know? Do you think your fighting for something, for your survival, for your pleasure, for Robin over there? What? Come on, Shia!"

"Because…" the punk coughed, "it's the only thing I'm good at!"

A sigh. "I don't believe that for a minute. But as much as I'd like to hear your life story, Bonnet, I can't. See, I've got a friend I need to find, and you and your -generous- personality are going to tell me where your boss is holding her!"

"And why should I?" Shia's coughs stretched into a gnawing groan, the same sort of groan she had heard back in a hotel bar a few thousand miles away. His dirty hands pressed against his stomach while he curled into himself like a gimp of a pill bug. "OH! My stomach…!"

"Oh no!" Robin exclaimed. "His stomach ulcer! Quickly, give him his medication!"

"On it!"

Yune rocked forward on his heels toward Bonnet. His hands flattened, curving against the shape of the body while the clothes flattened and smoothed out from under them. His hands met Bonnet again and again, patting him down, shifting position each time a faint clatter rattled out from the boy. One of his hands curled at the knuckles, cupping against a chest pocket.

"I think I found it." The small little button gleamed quickly in the streetlight, arcing severely in the quiet air just as Yune ripped the pocket open. His fingers dived in… and out they came with a chubby orange bottle in their pinch. Little tablets bounced like Mexican jumping beans as he gave it quick shake. "Ha! Got it!"

"Great!" Robin nodded. "Those are it. Give them to him!"

The large white cap bounced on the asphalt, bouncing off against the chunky grains, flopping on its flat solid face as it lazily rolled into her toe. Her man pushed the bottle into Bonnet's face, the brim of it poking in past his lips-and still Shia fought back. The boy had managed to pry a hand between his face and his nemesis' forearm, shoving it away!

"No!" Shia wiggled against him.

"Shia, what are you?" Robin couldn't finish.

"No medicine…!" the boy bared his teeth, pressed together in a painful clench. "NONE!"

Shia swatted at the bottle. All other mouths dropped, including her own, as those precious pills popped out of the cylinder. For just a fleeting second, she could see them-all of them, little circles and ovals spinning in front of the warm glow of the street lamp like planetoids in the celestial waltz-and they were gone….

They might as well have been like grains in the asphalt as they sprinkled onto the street.

"SHIA!" Robin yelled. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

"You want-UZI?" his cry shot out painfully. "You want your Kim Possible back-HUH?"

"Don't you dare go -hara-kiri- on me, boy!" Yune sized him by collar. "Where are they, Shia? Answer me!"

"They're at the Organ Grinder-ALRIGHT!" Shia coughed. "Oh!"

"Where's that?" he pressed. "A music shop? You better not be yanking my chain, Shia!"

"NO!" Bonnet shook his head furiously. "I'm not…!"

The sharp clopping cut her attention away for a second. Robin was making like her generous self, using her locked arms as support as her hands pressed against her crooked knees, peering at the darkness before her on the ground, squinting. Shia screamed haggardly, and she turned back to the men again.

"OH-Ho…!" Shia writhed into himself, twitching agonizingly. Even though he thankfully was backlit, as dark as a shadow, it was hurting her just to look. "It HURTS…!"

"Tell me where they are, and I'll find you your medicine!" Her man coached. "Concentrate!"

"South of the Negev…!" the boy growled. "King SOLOMON'S MINE!"

"That old copper mine?" Yune blinked. "For a military base? You got to be shitting me!"

"No… I'm NOT!" Shia coughed.

"Hold on, Shia!" Robin exclaimed. She looked for the dark girl again, craning her head over he shoulder. The Ethiopian was on all fours now, her finger poking at pricking at the street like a chicken to feed. "Let me find you your medication!"

"Robin…." The boy's breathing was shallow. "I love you!"

"NO!" the girl shouted blindly back. "DO NOT TALK LIKE THAT!"

"Rob!" Shia was weak, but he continued anyway. It was something out of a bad romance novel or something. "Please…! Since the moment I saw you… back at Ben Gurion, when you stepped off the plane…! Somehow I knew I loved you! I don't know how-nor CAN I-explain…! I just knew…! Since then… you were-you ARE-the best thing that ever happened for this miserable heap…!"

"Shia…!" the girl gasped. "No…!"

"Don't cry for me, Rob…!"

Tears sparkled for her, for Robin, for all of them to see, to stare in wonderment at. For all she knew, Shia was being real for possibly the first time in his life. Strangely enough, she felt it. Her heart fluttered as though it grew butterfly wings. It was… beautiful.

"I don't deserve it…!" Shia strain seemingly eased, but she had a suspicion that it wasn't of his accord. "Live your life in peace… KNOWING-that you're finally free… of Mr. U. Like myself…! Free of all that misery and rage… the hatred-GONE! But maybe…! Maybe… in the NEXT life… I can finally be-perfect… for you…."

His writhing stopped instantly, he twitched not again, and his chest fell into him for a final time. Shia Bonnet was still, eerily still. His emulation was complete; he finally became that piece of wasted flesh commonly found on a backwoods byway. He was dead; Yune's vengeance was complete. Now she was certain the poor kid was standing before those imposing gates of pearl-right at this very moment-watching anxiously as a man in white thumbed through the Lamb's Book of Life for his name.

"Yune…." She blinked for blinking sake, shaking her head in needless bewilderment. "Is he really…?"

A somber shaking of his head confirmed everything.

"Shia…!" Robin sniffed. Her head hanged low between her shoulders, her frizzy ponytail slipping over her head when Tara turned for her. Her legs were crossed at the ankles, and she leaned forward to where her locked arms were perfectly perpendicular with the ground. A single gleam of light fell from her flush cheeks, splashing into oblivion as it met the street, so much pain, and so much anguish in such a tiny drop. "No, no, no, no…."

A whimper, a sniff-and with such sensation-such passion, Robin whipped back her head. The ponytail arced gracefully in the air, slapping her backside as the girl let out a shout she'd never wanted to hear.

"SHIA!"