Ante-Mortem
By: Wildfire Sky
Two words, ok? Good God. I forgot how demanding readers could be...I should have known better. Ok, so it's partially my fault for not updating in three weeks as one reviewer so nicely put it, and I really don't have a good excuse except that writers like to enjoy their breaks as much as the next person. I don't get very many vacations. Anyways, I sure you're tired of hearing me spout, so get a readin'!!
Ante-Mortem
Chapter Nineteen
Mumei eyed Jet warily, something in the back of his mind screaming that this man was a potential threat. That much was blatantly obvious, especially from their earlier encounter. He wanted to relax and listen to what Jet had to say, but for some reason his body felt like it was operating on overdrive, completely tense and locked in fight-or-flight. He slowly sank into the lounge chair in the large living room, patiently watching the hawk-like man stare at him from the couch.
The silence seemed to drone on forever, both men holding a battle of the wills, daring the other to look away and admit defeat. But Mumei wouldn't be swayed so easily, and he could tell that Jet wouldn't cow down either.
"Well?" Jet sneered, finally leaning back, "What do you want?"
Mumei released his held sigh, breaking their gazes, "I wanted to...I mean, I was wondering about you, me, and Francoise..."
"003."
"Whatever." Mumei could feel the rage starting to build already. He was trying to have a civilized talk, and already this man was correcting him! "What I'm trying to say is that you seem to have a previous relationship with Francoise...one that I might be infringing on. And...I'm sorry."
Jet stared at Joe for a moment. "So, are you saying you'll back off or what?"
Mumei scratched the back of his head, "No...I'm not saying that at all. I'm just apologizing for whatever I've done to you in the past."
"What in the hell are you talking about?"
Mumei closed his eyes. "You obviously don't like me...and I'm not exactly sure why. But I think it might be because of our differences. If it offends you that I'm a Japanese man with a woman outside of my race..."
"Isn't that frowned upon in Japan?"
Mumei nodded, "It is...but I'm willing to accept that if it means I can be with her."
Jet scratched the back of his head, uncomfortable with the level of obvious protectiveness that Mumei was displaying of Francoise. He'd hoped that with the former leader's mind shot to hell, the entire matter of Francoise would be finally put to rest and he could move in without the beautiful woman developing feelings for Joe again. He wanted to finally be able to have her and enjoy her like he'd always wanted...with Joe out of the picture.
Jet's lip curled into a snarl as he glared at 009's slumped form. But now...now Joe was regaining his memory...he was remembering how much he'd loved Francoise...he was remembering the feelings that they'd held for each other. Joe's dreams were becoming his nightmare. How the flaming hell was he supposed to get Francoise if Joe was going to be here to prevent it? There had to be some way...
Mumei glanced over at the small, dark porthole, a wave of want suddenly filling his chest. He would rather be outside with Francoise than in here facing down this aggressive Jet character. He found himself wishing that he'd actually taken Kinto's advice and left. The other fishermen must be worried about him anyways...
Hold on...he thought, glancing around, "Where's Min?"
Jet smirked, "You must really be out of it, 009. Min's on his way to the infirmary with 008. While you were taking your sweet time getting down here, I handed him off to the others."
"008?"
"The African."
Mumei searched his brain, trying to place a face with a name. He vaguely remembered a black man, but he'd been so worried about Tai that he hardly took any notice of the room's other occupants. The other men with apparent super powers...heroes and warriors against some Black Ghost....a hero that he was supposed to be too.
Mumei glanced at Jet, trying to choose his words. "If you could answer me this...I think it might help..."
Jet leaned back against the couch, eyebrow quirked. "Fire away then."
"Everyone keeps telling me that I'm like the rest of you...a cyborg turned human..." Mumei licked his lips, "And you all have these...powers...so does that mean I can too?"
Jet blinked, not expecting that question, but one regarding Francoise. He narrowed his eyes at him, suspicious of the young man. "Why?"
Mumei shrugged slowly, "I was...curious...I'm sure that the more I know, the more I can remember, and the faster we can solve our problems."
Jet stood up, fists clenched, "Let me explain something to you, 009, there was never any issue between you and me. The issue is between me and Francoise...you're just in the way. Everything was fine on this ship until you went psycho on us. If you want to remember, remember what you did to Francoise."
Mumei flinched, turning away, "I...I can't remember..."
"Think damn it!" Jet stormed over until he was directly behind Mumei. If he couldn't dissuade Mumei himself, he'd let the Japanese boy do it. "You need to remember what you did to her before you remember anything else."
Mumei bowed his head, "I don't know how..."
"No, you just don't want to." Jet glared at the boy's back, "You're scared...scared of what you did, aren't you?"
The young fisherman answered with silence, afraid that he would further condemn himself by speaking. Jet let him sulk before turning away in disgust.
"Coward." He spat, moving to the hallway. "Don't you go near her, 009...don't you dare until you remember what you did to her. What you did to all of us."
Mumei listened to his heavy footfalls as the hawk-like man ascended the staircase, his heart sinking with every metallic thump. Was he truly a coward? It wasn't his fault that his memory had failed, was it? He hadn't done anything that would make such a drastic turn in his life...not on purpose...
"Mumei."
The young boy looked up, turning towards the voice. Sotomo stood in the hall entryway, arms folded across his chest as he carefully watched Mumei. Although his stance was defensive, Mumei could see the worry in the man's eyes.
"Soto..."
The man shifted slightly, leaning against the wall comfortably as he studied his young charge, wondering what the man was thinking. The boy seemed almost unplugged, his red eyes distant and distracted...like his brain was on overload. Mumei seemed more anxious too, switching his weight from foot to foot, fingers absently playing with the hem of his damp shirt, and looking anywhere but at Sotomo.
The fishing boat captain jerked his bearded chin at Mumei. "Were you outside in the rain?"
Mumei nodded silently, still not looking directly at Soto.
"Aren't you cold?"
"No." the response was whispered, barely caught by the captain's ears. Soto sighed, shaking his head, a small smile gracing his lips.
"I guess a woman can make you do stupid things."
That had the desired effect. Mumei's head jerked up in surprise, eyes slightly wider and his mouth was slack. Soto shrugged innocently. "You're easy to read, my friend, even with your emotions in turmoil." Soto slowly walked into the room, watching the boy carefully, "I just saw Kinto in the infirmary with Min...the doctor says the crazy bastard's suffering from alcohol poisoning."
Mumei nodded. "So he'll be alright?"
"After they pump his stomach and let him rest for a few days, yes." Sotomo groaned, "I'd hoped to get out of Japan as soon as possible...but now with two of my crew out, there's no way in hell I can. What a mess..."
Sotomo walked over and placed a hand on Mumei's shoulder, "There's one other thing...that we need to talk about...you"
Mumei bowed his head, shutting his eyes tightly closed, "Sotomo...it's not..."
"Don't even say it, Mumei, I already talked with the doctor." Sotomo squeezed the boy's shoulder, "How much do you remember, Mumei? Honestly."
"Not much," the boy replied softly, "I can only remember Francoise...but..."
Sotomo nodded, "It's a start, right? I know a lot about you...and what I know, you've been told, but haven't accepted yet, am I right? That might be the problem, Mumei..." Sotomo forced the boy the sit on the couch and crouched before him, "I'm sure that if you learn to accept the truth, everything will come back to you."
"I'm trying to accept it, Sotomo," Mumei said, "but everytime I think about it, I don't want it to be true. I want to think of myself as a normal human being, not some freakish cybertronic killing machine!"
"And that's what's holding you back from your memory," Soto said, "That mindset right there...from what I know, you and your friends here are more like heroes than killers. You've done so much to help the common man, even though your lives were ruined. It's an honorable way to go through life, Mumei."
Mumei sighed, "But Sotomo...if I remember, then I'll have to go back to this life...I won't be able to be a fisherman anymore."
"Says who?" Sotomo smirked, "Listen to me, Mumei, your life is your life, no matter what happens to you. So you're a cyborg, so what? I see it as a blessing! You're smarter, faster, and stronger than the average human, allowing you to save the world. You've created amazing bonds with these people, family bonds...what more could you want?"
"To be human, Sotomo...that's what I want." Mumei looked up at him, his eyes glassy, "My life isn't a blessing...it's a curse! It's a horrible curse! Can I ever have a family? Can I have kids and some one who loves me for being a robot?"
Sotomo's eyebrow fitted together with worry, a frown on his face, "Mumei...it's not that bad..."
"How would you know??" Mumei snapped, standing up and glaring down at the older man, "How could you possibly know?"
"Mumei..."
The boy shook his head furiously, staring down at his hands in disgust, "I...I don't even feel real anymore...I can almost feel the robotic parts clicking away in my body...my metal body..." his clenched fists fell to his sides and he stared straight ahead, eyes locked on the wall in front of him, "I am a freak, Sotomo, and don't you ever tell me I'm not, ok?"
Sotomo quickly climbed to his feet, reaching out towards the panicked youngster, "Mumei, don't be so rash...you're taking this too hard..."
Mumei jerked away from his touch as he continued to stare at the wall. "You're right, Soto, I can't accept this...I don't ever want to. Nothing good can come of it."
"Mumei, please..."
The boy shook his head, cutting off Soto's words with the quick turn of his heel. "I'm going back to the ship...tell the doctor I said thank you for everything."
Soto let his hand drop, "And that young woman? Don't you think she'll be disappointed that you left without saying good-bye...again?"
Mumei froze at the words, bracing himself against the wall. The tears were already beginning to roll down his cheeks from the pain he was feeling inside. "It won't matter Sotomo, I can't see her anyways..."
Sotomo watched sadly as Mumei disappeared into the dim hallway, wondering if the young man's pain would ever truly end or if he was destined to be cheated in life for the rest of his days.
"How ever long that will be..." Sotomo grumbled, sinking down onto the couch and putting his head in his hands. He never noticed the shocked blue eyes behind him, nor did he hear the single word uttered from their lips...
"No..."
Tagasuki moaned against the pain in the chest, the image of Diablo's smirking face blurred from the tears that streamed down his cheeks. His shoulder had long ago gone numb, yet the knife blade was still jabbed deep into his flesh, only slightly stemming the blood flow. He wanted to reach over and pull out the blade, but his right arm no longer responded to his wills...in fact, it wasn't responding at all. Arms usually didn't when they'd been dislocated from their sockets.
But Diablo wasn't caring about Tagasuki's pain...he wasn't even worried about the fact that he'd nearly wiped out the entire yakuza force. No, he was worried that he'd utterly failed his mission...he'd gotten completely off track and that, as a cyborg under Black Ghost, was unacceptable. No, Diablo wasn't worried about the present...but the future...his possible deletion.
Black Ghost wasn't the type of man who was easily pleased...even accomplished missions were praised with more training and punishment for any and all mistakes. His situation was even worse. He was supposed to go in, capture the target, return him to Black Ghost, and be done with it...now what was he supposed to do?
Another moan from Tagasuki drew Diablo from his thoughts. He looked down at the man in annoyance, itching to simply cut the man's throat and be done with it...but Tagasuki would serve a much bigger purpose than a corpse. Police involvement at this point was unavoidable, no doubt they were on their way now, the alarmed raised by one of the few escapees (which was another blunder on his part). So he'd have to work quickly.
Reaching down, Diablo wrapped his hand around the hilt of his blade, clamping a hand over Tagasuki's dry mouth as he jerked upwards. The fat man's entire body arched off the bed, his ragged scream muffled by Diablo's hand. More tears streamed from his face as he began to thrash about, trying uselessly to push the cyborg off with his injured arm. His efforts were viciously cut off as Diablo's open hand slapped him across his face.
"I suggest you shut the hell up, amigo..." Diablo snarled, "We need to talk, and I'm not going to stand for you running you mouth. Understand me?"
Tagasuki stared at him, blood streamed from his now broken nose, one eye beginning to swell rapidly, a growing mass on his face. Another slap from Diablo got a response, Tagasuki's head nodding rapidly beneath the killer's hand.
"Good." Diablo slowly began to pull away, "Now I'm going to let you go, but if you try to pull anything...I'll gut you like a pig, got it?"
Tagasuki nodded again, eyes wide. Diablo lifted up his hand, and Tagasuki gasped in a heave of air, licking his lips. Diablo watched the yakuza leader carefully, alert to any movement that would reveal an attempt to escape.
"What..." Tagasuki gasped, hand over his chest, "What do you want? Money? Power?"
"Neither. What I'm about to propose might help both of us."
Tagasuki waited patiently for the cyborg to continue, more worried about pissing him off than whatever he had to say. Diablo moved until he was standing over the man, staring down at him. He tapped the blade against his palm, trying to determine whether or not he should even attempt to talk to the fat bastard, or if he should simply kill him and be done with it. No, this was important…his life was at stake and death wasn't on his radar.
"You and I both have a problem," Diablo said, pulling out a cigarette and bring it to his lips, "Our problem is that right now, people are looking for us…people who could very well make our lives miserable. The police are after you, and I'm pretty sure that Black Ghost is after me, so you can see the situation."
Tagasuki smirked, shakily lifting his body into an upright position, leaning against the head board. "Oh I get it," he said, "You need me to prevent Black Ghost from killing you…"
"And you need me to keep the police off your back." Diablo snapped his fingers, a tiny flame igniting from the tips. He lit the smoke, shaking his hand to quench the small flame. "So I figure we can help each other."
"How do you propose we do that? You must not know my yakuza very well, my friend, I own the police…I have agents all over the place, and lawyers to back me up. My yakuza is untouchable."
Diablo glared, "Don't you mean former yakuza? You must not know me very well…I don't leave survivors."
It was only partially true. Diablo noted with distain that in all actuality, he was a hypocrite…he'd left too many people alive and now he would have to pay the consequences. Black Ghost has agents in the police department as well. The moment they got wind that he was still in Tokyo, they'd come after him with everything they had and then some. He had to get out of Tokyo…move to the underground forever. He would become a god amongst criminals, and someday take the fight to Black Ghost…become the new master over both cyborgs and men…
But for now, hiding and surviving were at the top of his to do list.
"Diablo-san, I still do not understand how this will benefit me." Tagasuki's large chest heaved with each breath, "Even though my yakuza is gone, I still have the law on my side, and the yakuza can be rebuilt. So, tell me, why I should worry about any of your problems?" he laughed, "After all, it seems to me that you're the desperate one. I find it interesting that you come to seek aid from a man you'd once threatened."
The fat man's cackling was swiftly cut off as Diablo's blade was suddenly against his neck, forcing his pudgy head back. Tagasuki slowly raised his hands in submission, his eyes wide but never leaving Diablo's fierce ones.
"Don't mock me fat boy," Diablo snarled, "I'll kill you faster than you can scream, and I promise you that. Now, are you going to shut up and listen...or am I going to have to cut your tongue out to keep you quiet?"
Tagasuki smiled nervously, "No, no...Diablo-san...you've made your point. Am willing to listen to whatever you have to say."
The blade was slowly lowered from his gullet. "Good. Now that I'm sure I have your attention, I'll continue. As I said before, the police will be on your trail, make no mistake about that. My master does not allow for over due missions and will hunt both of us down because you were simply involved in the process. If he's merciful, he'll leave you in the care of the law enforcement...if he's as unforgiving as I am, he'll put out such a great search party that we have no hope of escape."
"And what do you expect us to do? Beg?"
Diablo smirked, "Of course not. I'd expect as much from you, however, I have a much different path in mind. With your brilliance, we can remain underground. You could form a new yakuza and hide me in the ranks until Black Ghost gives up...then we can both emerge without fear. I'll kill any police investigators that get too close, leaving you to do whatever you do for a living. The police will be off your back and I'll be a free man."
Diablo declined to tell Tagasuki that he had no intention of teaming with him. The moment that fat bastard let his guard down, he'd hang him out to dry for Black Ghost's vultures to pick over. While Tagasuki died a horrible death, he would be safe out of the eyes of both the law and his master. Black Ghost would be so preoccupied with torturing Tagasuki that he'd completely forget about him! It was so simplistic, it was beautiful!
Tagasuki, however, was less than convinced. He could almost smell the undercurrent of a scam. "How do I know you won't betray me? You're not the type of man who instills a great deal of confidence in your partners. After all, you did just stab me."
Diablo chuckled lightly, "Yes, I did stab you, and I broke your arm...but look at you! You show no outward signs of pain and you're talking straight. To me, you seem like a strong, brave leader with skills that would do us both some good. I need you to hide me, and you need me for protection. And even trade don't you think?"
Tagasuki stroked his chin, eyeing Diablo carefully. Finally he nodded, sitting a little straighter, "I don't trust everything that you say...but if it will keep me from being hunted by Black Ghost, I'm willing to go on a little faith." He held out his sweaty hand, flinching slightly from the pain, "You have a deal, my friend..."
Diablo's grin grew as he took the man's hand, clasping it in his own.
"Excellent."
Doctor Gilmore stood over Min's unconscious form, shaking his head as he took down notes and information from the green lettered monitors beside the bed. Whatever this man was drinking, he'd obviously had too much...and it was powerful. With the amounts of toxin flowing through the man's blood stream, it was a miracle he wasn't dead. Thankfully the other man, Tai, hadn't awoken to the sight of the other fisherman being brought in, his condition had shocked even the good doctor.
His face had been covered in thick blood from the innumerable cuts that rained over his pale face, his cheek had be stabbed completely through with what might have been a blade or a sharp tool, filling his mouth with a blood flow that took almost half and hour to stop even with 008's help. Below the neck was even worse. It looked like someone had used his as a punching bag for hours...almost every rib was cracked or broken, leaving him with an extremely bloated stomach. Although the injuries were great, they were not fatal. Min would, of course, come out of this slightly disfigured with a few scars, but whoever had done this knew when enough was enough and pulled back, no doubt leaving the man for dead.
Gilmore shook his head, "Who did this to you?"
Min didn't answer, his coma like state making his unaware to everything happening around him. Gilmore sighed again, turning back to the monitors. There was a low hiss as the hydraulic infirmary door slid open, admitting the operator. Gilmore barely turned, already knowing who it was.
"So how's 009 doing?"
Great Britain sighed, leaning against the cabinet wall, "Not as well as I'd hoped. Apparently he and 002 had a little discussion that didn't turn out for the better, if you get my drift."
"I do. So who's injured this time?"
GB chuckled at the doctor's dry humor. "No one physically, thank God, but 009 might be suffering emotionally. I just spoke with the captain and he said that 009 went back to the ship a little rattled about whatever 002 said. He doesn't think he's right for 003 and all that good stuff."
Gilmore sighed, "You're joking."
"Any other time, yes." GB shrugged, "I know that I kind of started this entire mess, but that doesn't mean that I still don't worry about 009. I felt so bad when he left and 003 was devastated...and now that he's back and even more lost, I don't think either of them have a prayer."
Gilmore frowned at the British man reproachfully, "Now, now, 007, don't be so cynical. You must have more faith in 009 than that or how can we help him? Both he and 003 are struggling right now. 003 no doubt is more frightened than anything that their love will break the team apart, and 009 is simply confused and overburdened. I fear we might have piled his past on his a little too quickly."
"It can't be helped." GB insisted, moving to stand opposite of the doctor, "003 had alerted us to the presence of a Black Ghost operative when we arrive in Tokyo Bay, and heaven knows what he was doing here! They might have been after 009..."
"We don't know that..."
GB's shoulders slumped as he looked away. "All I'm saying is that while this might be bad now, it could have been worse. 009 could be dead."
"He is mentally. It's unfortunate, but true." Gilmore placed the clipboard on Min's bedside table and picked up his brother's. "007, I want you to help him as much as you can…in whatever way you can. We must get the original 009 back for everyone's sake. Especially 003's."
007 smirked, standing up straight and saluting. "Don't worry, doc! With my talents, I'll have the ol' 009 back on track!"
Gilmore grimaced, "Just don't go overboard, alright?"
GB nodded with a mischievous smirk, "Oh don't worry about me doc…everything will be just 'fine'."
I'm in computer class right now and decided to post during class rather than wait. It's pointless. I'm finished right now, and I don't want to piss you guys off any more than I already have!! And if you're a fan of "The Guardian", that should be coming up pretty quick, I'm about half way done so hopefully and can finish tonight (I don't have a life now that my TV is gone…damn parentals!!). Ok, so peace out!!
THANKS TO EVERYONE WHO REVIEWED!! I LOVE YA!! LET'S GET BACK TO 100 REVIEWS!!
WATCH OUT FOR MY NEXT CHAPTER!! WE ARE SLOWLY GETTING CLOSER TO THE END…
TIME TO VOTE: SHOULD I OR SHOULD I NOT MAKE A SEQUEL? THE ENDING OF ANTE-MORTEM DEPENDS ON YOUR RESPONSE!! SO VOTE!!
