I apologize profoundly for being so late, but I won't give you any excuses cuz there are way too many in the first place. Anyhoo, yes, I am alive. And darn, I forgot to mention an important note the first time I uploaded Ch. 1 - "Setep" means "Chosen" in ancient Egyptian. Xp Hopefully that clears a few things up!
Anyhoo, THANK YOU SO MUCH TO EVERYONE WHO REVIEWED! I'm actually glad so many people liked the story so far (especially the gun fight part, cuz I had so much trouble with it...). :-p And yes, Kaiba is sexy... Well, he's ALWAYS sexy... -drooooool- As for Yami's amnesia-ness, I have one word: FREAKINESS. Kirika, the character I based him on, almost always has this very dull, silent gaze, and I clearly remembered being freaked out by it throughout Noir 'cause it was just so... STRANGE! Anyhoo, I'm glad that that strangeness came through my writing! Again, thank you thank you thank you for all the wonderful reviews! And to answer some questions I got...
1. "Whatever happened to Yami and why are those ugly goons after him?" Hehehe... it's a secret. :-D You'll find out! (As for exactly how Yami lost his memories... I have no idea. XD It never got explained, sorry... I'll have to make up some excuse later on in the story.)
2. "What about Yugi and Grandpa?" :-/ Well... all I can really say is that they're not going to be in this story. They're IMPORTANT, yes... but you'll see ultimately what "happened" to them.
3. "How old is Yami?" He's quite young... 15-ish, 16 if you push it. That's one of the major twists in this story, the fact that he's so young and yet so powerful... On one hand, he's a cold-hearted killer, but on the other hand, he's a scared little boy, still very much a child. I think it's these yin-yang qualities make him a really unique character. (A big thank you to everyone who liked that twist and commented on it:-p)
4. "Which Noir?" Uhhhhh... hm, I wasn't aware there were a lot of Noir's, but I'm referring to the anime one that came out in 2002 or so, with two girls in short skirts firing guns at random. :-p
5. "MOKUBA'S DEAD?" -turns and flees from angry mob- Eep! Hey, I needed poor, cold-hearted Seto to be at least a LITTLE emotionally unstable, you know what I mean? And its not my fault, I swear! I didn't kill him! -ducks tomatoes-
Anyhoo, back on the topic of "knowing what's going on", I would actually prefer people to sit tight and enjoy my story first before running off to find out about Noir. Hehe, the less you readers know, the more interesting this story becomes. :-D (I have strange logic, I know...) Besides, knowing Noir just ruins all the funky twists and turns I have planned, and of course, you'll know my secrets... :-( -tear- On the other hand, please do NOT feel alarmed if you don't know Noir cuz this story can stand perfectly well by itself, and I'll try to make it as understandable as possible. :-D Noir is more like a... guideline for this story. And like I said, even with episodes and all that, Noir is confusing as hell, so don't expect a perfectly understandable story much cuz I don't understand all that much to begin with... -scratches head-
And of course, there are still those lucky few that already know Noir... A note for you guys: I was originally planning on basing every chapter on each episode, but now it looks like I'm going to take some episodes out, mix others together and put them all out of order. (This chapter's based on Episode 3; Assassin's Game, for anyone who cares...) So basically, if this story not as close to Noir as you would like, too bad. :-p
WHEW! That author note was longer than I would have liked (I'm trying to cut down, honest) so go enjoy the chapter!
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CHAPTER TWO: White Roses
Seto wasn't sure what he expected when Yami moved in with him, but it sure wasn't normalcy. Regardless, he couldn't deny that Yami had settled easily and effortlessly into his life. Having few possessions and even fewer words to say, the boy had chosen to adopt an unnaturally quiet life style, always skirting around Seto and leaving the assassin alone to do what he wished. He also seemed extremely conscious about Seto's privacy and never tampered with the man's belongings, regardless if Seto was willing to share them or not. The only visible change to the condo that anyone could see was the addition of Yugi and Sugoroku's picture on the small coffee table by the window. If Seto hadn't seen Yami put it there, he probably wouldn't have even noticed it.
On the bright side, Yami did develop a liking for doing household chores, often working away mindlessly until weariness called for some tea and a good book. Seto, feeling awkward to have suddenly gained an unofficial housemaid, had told the boy repeatedly that such work wasn't necessary, but Yami had politely ignored him. Seto eventually gave up trying. He supposed the boy was just bored and needed something to do -after all the kid had probably been through, the assassin wouldn't have been surprised if all Yami wanted was a boring, uninteresting life.
In any case, this was all fine and dandy. The only problem Seto had was that if Yami had already cleaned the entire condo and could not find a descent book, the boy often liked to settle in a chair and watch Seto intently from across the room, blinking those big eerie eyes of his and never once uttering a word.
That habit irked Seto. He felt like he had suddenly gotten a cat.
He couldn't help but admit, though, that his life had certainly become a lot more... interesting. Plants he had owned for years suddenly blossomed for the first time, flourishing under Yami's careful care. The assassin's condo had become so squeaky clean that the man started seeing his own reflection in objects that he had long forgotten he owned. And despite the boy's efforts to hide them from Seto's path, Yami's addiction to books sometimes left the brunette staring in bewilderment at the sheer number of novels that kept appearing on his chair.
Remarkably, the assassin found himself tolerating all the boy's "quirks". He even exchanged his white sheets for red silk covers so that he could offer the bed to Yami and move himself to the couch. Yami had been startled by the offer, but Seto had been insistent. The man had, after all, been raised in a highborn family; Lord forbid, he simply wasn't going to forget all his manners.
Besides... he was a sucker for big googly eyes.
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A few uneventful days went by. The summer grew hotter, the people more restless, the dogs more noisy. But for the first time since he woke up, Yami was content. Seto's beautiful condo had more than enough room for two (the bed, too, though neither of them dared to mention that) and the boy could spend all the time he wanted tending to the plants and reading his books. Much to his relief, Seto never once tried to force him to go to school or see the city. Yami wasn't sure if this was because the assassin knew how wary he had become of the outside world or just because the brunette didn't want him tagging along his heels, but the boy never complained. After all, he liked his new life. It was easy, simple and relaxing, the type of life that he might have only dreamed of a few days ago.
But the peace did not last. Yami should have known it wouldn't. He was, after all, living with an assassin. There were always assignments to carry out and people to kill, especially if Seto was as good as he claimed to be.
"Get ready," Seto suddenly announced one day, almost out of the blue. He had just finished checking his email and had found that there was a new assignment fresh and open for him. For them, actually, though the rest of the world didn't know that.
Curled up on the couch in one of Seto's big T-shirts and a tight pair of cut-off shorts (Seto had been trying, for the better part of the day, to ignore just how short those shorts were,) Yami looked up from his book, his face expressionless save for a quick blink. "By when?"
"Tonight." Seto closed his laptop carefully and stood, performing a long and elegant stretch. He flinched when he felt beads of sweat dripping down the back of his neck. He normally preferred to strip down to boxers when it got this hot, but with Yami here, he had been forced to opt for a pair of sweatpants instead. Still, he had decided to leave his chest bare as a compromise.
And what a compromise that was! Yami tried desperately not to stare as the assassin stretched. Seto walking around half-naked all day certainly hadn't helped him focus on his book, and more than once the boy found his eyes wandering from the pages of his novel to Seto's beautiful form across the room.
There was something so tranquil and yet deadly about the way the man moved, about the way he commanded respect by just being in the room. He was like some living marble statue, all pale and handsome and built like a tiger, every part of him simply radiating with beauty and power. The man was perfection personified.
Not noticing the sudden awkwardness in the room, Seto turned -shameless of his semi-nudity, of course- and disappeared into the walk-in closet, returning moments later dressed in black pants and a loose black dress shirt. He reached for the coat hanger by the doorway, bypassing his normal trench coats to pick a casual jean jacket instead.
Yami sat up instantly. "Where are you going?"
"Out."
Yami swallowed as Seto slipped into the jacket. "Where? Why?"
"I have an errand."
Yami glanced at Seto's gun, which had been left by the computer in plain view. "You're going without your gun?"
Seto stiffened visibly. "I don't need a gun."
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Roses were beautiful, sacred things, symbols of love, eternity, and so much more. Seto gently cupped one flower with his hand and rubbed it tenderly with his fingers, relishing how soft and delicate the petals felt under his skin. His mother had liked roses, he remembered. She always frolicked about in the gardens, cutting up fresh buds and setting them all over the manor. When the flowers bloomed, they often filled the entire house with so much fragrance that Seto and Mokuba had to fake allergic reactions to get outside.
But that was a long time ago.
Seto looked down at the bouquet of white roses in his arms, tenderly raising the flowers to his face and inhaling their sweet, musky fragrance. Oh, the memories... His mother's face, his brother's laughter... The assassin swallowed hard, hot, burning grief stabbing at his heart.
He missed his family... He missed the times he and Mokuba had put on their father's big suits and staggered around in his giant shoes, pretending to be the kings of the world. He missed those sick days when his father told him to suck it up while his mother showered him with kisses and chocolate and soup. He missed those nights when his father used to take him in his lap and scare him with stories of big bad wolves, evil stepsisters, and worse, the taxes that won't go away. He missed those beautiful spring mornings when he'd wake up groggily to the sound of his mother's piano twinkling downstairs. But most of all, he missed the glowing love in Mokuba's big blue eyes when the boy hugged him good night.
Now, a little more than a decade later, Seto Kaiba stood once again before his family. Or at least, before all that was left of them. Three marble gravestones marked the hallowed ground before his feet, the smallest bearing just two dates and six simple words; 'Mokuba Kaiba: You will be missed'.
Seto felt his eyes burn with fresh tears. "Hey, Mokie... Mom, Dad..." he whispered, his voice choked.
No answer. Not that he expected one.
The wind stirred, sweeping through Seto's chocolate locks and billowing through the meadow of grass, etching long, flowing patterns around the various gravestones that were scattered throughout the cemetery. By now, dark clouds had gathered in the sky, the air already sweet and heavy with moisture.
Seto didn't notice. He struggled against the sudden tightness in his throat, opening his mouth to speak only to find that nothing came out. His eyes were burning now, his vision blurred. A gentle breeze danced with his tousled bangs and carried off one twinkling tear from the edge of his left eye, throwing the sparkling droplet into the sky.
The assassin watched the tear fly and splatter on the ground. The wet streak it left behind was soon join by others, though these droplets were far bigger and more numerous.
Plit. Plat. Plit. Plat.
There was something to be said about rain, about the way it washed over a lover's heated skin, about the way it soothed the troubled... Seto raised his face to the darkened sky, his azure eyes fluttering shut as a curtain of fresh rain cascaded over his lean form. The fat raindrops splattered on his face and caressed his pale skin, sliding slowly through his thick hair and instantly soaking him through.
Seto didn't mind. After all, when it rained, no one could tell the difference between raindrops and tears.
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Seto reset the bouquets a final time and stood back, feeling tired and drained. It was a good thing this cemetery was usually so empty. He was sure he looked like a total mess standing here, all alone in the rain and as wet as a dog.
The assassin sighed, running a hand through his wet hair. He knew he should be heading home to a nice warm bath, but he didn't feel like it just yet. He still needed some time to just ponder and get away from the rest of the world, to get away from all the killing and screaming that normally dominated his life.
There was a quiet sound to his right. A man's footsteps.
The assassin shifted his gaze.
A few graves away stood another man, a few years older than Seto and with long white hair. He was tall, slim and delicate, dressed in a dark suit with a bouquet of white roses in one arm and a black umbrella in the other. As Seto watched curiously, the man knelt and set his flowers on a grave, then reached out to stroke the gravestone with long, loving fingers.
The assassin felt a pang of sympathy. It was so sad to live in a world with so many lost, lonely young men. How many of them had lost a loved one? A lover? A friend?
The newcomer bowed his head, presumably to pray. After a few minutes, he climbed gingerly back to his feet, his shoulders slumped sadly. He turned, perhaps to go, and caught sight of Seto staring at him.
Their gazes met.
Seto could see that the man better now, though it was still difficult through the curtain of rain between them. The stranger turned out to be quite a handsome young lad with a long, pale face and eyes in a lovely shade of gold. He couldn't have been more than a few years older than Seto.
For a while, the two gazed curiously at each other, neither speaking nor moving.
Finally, the white-haired man inclined his head in greeting. "You should get out of the rain," he said softly. His voice was silky and strangely melodic, like that of a singer.
The assassin shrugged, sending rain flying from his broad shoulders. "I'm fine."
Unconvinced, the other man glanced at his umbrella before offering it kindly to Seto.
Seto shook his head to deny the offer. "Who did you lose?" he asked quietly, his curiosity finally overcoming him.
Tears sparkled in the newcomer's eyes as he turned to look back down at the grave at his feet. He nudged half-heartedly at his flowers with one foot, a visible shudder running through his slender body. "My wife."
Seto was unable to hide a pained wince from his face. He drifted cautiously to the man's side to glance inquisitively at the small, basalt gravestone before them.
Beloved wife, Cecelia Pegasus.
Her youth struck Seto instantly.
"I'm sorry..." he whispered, looking away uncomfortably.
The silver-haired man was silent and unmoving, immobile as a statue. There were tears in his eyes, but none fell. "She was ill," he whispered mournfully, his voice choked, "I couldn't save her..."
Seto closed his eyes briefly in sorrow. "I'm sorry," he murmured again, for lack of anything else to say.
They lapsed into silence, soothed by the soft melody of the rain. Frigid, wet wind slapped painfully at their faces until their skin was raw and cold, but neither man noticed, both lost in the serenity of the moment.
"I see you like roses as well," the newcomer said suddenly, without looking up.
Seto blinked and looked back at his family's graves. "My mother loved them, yes."
The other man smiled sadly at nothing in particular. "As did my wife," he murmured absently, "She loved them for their beauty, but I loved them for their thorns."
Seto's lips twitched upward in appreciation.
The newcomer went on in a dreamy, distant voice. "There's something fascinating about roses, I must admit..." he mused, twirling his umbrella in his long fingers, "Its strange that they're so beautiful and yet so-"
"Deadly?" Seto offered quietly.
"Yes... Deadly." The silver-haired man looked up at him, a twinkle in his eyes. "There's that famous quote, you know...My wife used to tell it to me all the time," he remarked with a surprising amount of cheerfulness in his voice, "'A life with love is full of thorns, but a life without love has no roses.'" He nodded in satisfaction, as if pleased with himself. "I believe that." 1
Seto stiffened. "I don't need love," he mumbled gruffly. "My life is fine without it."
The other man blinked at him, then cocked his head. "Is it?" he asked quietly.
Seto scowled faintly.
The white-haired man suddenly unleashed a blindingly bright smile. "Pardon, I've been terribly rude, going on like that." He extended his hand pleasantly, "My name is Pegasus."
Seto took the hand and shook. "Kaiba."
Pegasus raised an eyebrow. "Are you, perchance, related to the Black Isle Kaiba's?"
Seto didn't even blink, though that feat took some effort. "Distantly," he lied smoothly, "but we're a few generations apart. I'm only in Domino for college." Seto grimaced inside; that wasn't exactly the most well-thought-out lie of the century. In truth, Seto's family had been small to begin with, with very few extended relatives, if any. Seto just hoped Pegasus didn't know that.
"Ah," Pegasus nodded, retracting his hand. "I work here, sometimes... but this was Cecelia's birth city. She wanted to be buried here."
Seto was silent.
"Yes, she loved this city..." Pegasus trailed off again, his eyes distant. He looked back down at his wife's grave, keeling briefly to save his flowers from a fast-growing puddle. Then he stood once more only to re-adopt that slouched, depressed position.
Puzzled, Seto decided to leave. He meandered stiffly toward the main gate, accompanied only by the sloshing sound of his boots sinking into the rain-soaked ground. He paused briefly to glance over his shoulder.
Pegasus was still there, unmoving.
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Click.
Yami looked up from his book.
A sopping wet Seto trudged tiredly through the door, glaring darkly at nothing. His once blue jean jacket was now soaked to a dark black, and his hair had turned from chocolate to dreary, inky sable. Heaving a great big sigh, the assassin turned to close the door and pressed his forehead against the cool wood, breathing hard. Visible tremors ran through his slim body.
Yami bit his lip. "...Are you alright?" he asked softly, hesitantly.
"Fine."
Yami flinched at Seto's steely tone and diverted his gaze, saying nothing else.
Seto respected that. He really wasn't in a conversational mood. Taking a deep, shaky breath, the assassin closed his eyes and counted to ten. Once he was pleased that his raging emotions were under control, he slowly de-robed himself from his jacket, wincing as his wet dress shirt stuck to the thick fabric. Yanking at the bloody thing, he finally managed to hang the jacket up on the coat holder, shivering the entire way.
Yami eyed him for a second, then quietly set his book down and left the room. Moments later, the sound of running water and billowing steam filled the condo. Yami returned a little bit later, still not looking Seto in the eye. "It's hot," he offered quietly.
Seto looked at him wearily, then gave a small smile. "Thank you." It was the first time he had said that in a long time.
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Their mission was simple. The target was a man by the code name of Diamonde, a businessman with quite a name in the black market. Believed to have had a hand in the assassination of a young CEO just two weeks ago, he was staying just outside of town in a small, lavish resort called Le Rouge Chateau. The late CEO's widow had hired Setep to take the man out.
It was a simple, clean assignment.
Therefore, Seto decided to be simple and clean in their approach. He opted that they go in full black attire, with black pants, black shirts and of course, black boots. Seto himself would go in first, since he knew the building better, and Yami would watch his back from afar. With their skills, they were both sure they'd get in in no time.
If all went well, anyways.
"Well, its about time," Seto announced as he picked up his gun. He shut his laptop, immediately throwing the unlit room into pure darkness. They had turned off all the lights in the condo as a security measure, just in case anyone felt like peeking in on them or paying them an unwelcomed visit.
Yami blinked rapidly as he waited for his eyes to adjust to the dimness. Absent-mindedly, he trailed his fingertips over his gun before checking around his belt for the extra cartridges of ammo he had clipped. He felt down his leg to where another gun -one of Seto's- was strapped to his thigh, and then lower still, to the small daggers tucked into the sides of his boots. The boy wasn't sure how Seto got all this gear, but it was sure beat dragging around a gun in plain view and stuffing bullets into the pockets of his school uniform. 2
There was a sound to his left; Seto was standing. The tall man stretched lazily for few minutes, his tight, vinyl clothes gleaming with faint electrical luster. The light came from his window, where everything from silvery moonlight to the electric neon glow of flashing advertisements poured in from the sprawling city nightscape outside.
Yami glanced warily at the strange lights. Yes, it was a beautiful sight, but it also made him wonder what evils hid out there behind the noises and the lights, what poor woman was being assaulted in the dark alleys, what poor shop being robbed at gunpoint. He apparently had a great dislike for cities, but he didn't know why. Perhaps he was still fearful of being jumped at every corner... After all, he had spent the first few days in his recent memory running frantically for his life.
"You need a disguise," Seto remarked suddenly.
Yami turned and blinked, his scarlet eyes glowing eerily in the night light. "You're not wearing one," he pointed out politely.
Seto sighed, heading over to the mirror and the dresser by the door. He took a comb and a tub of gel and proceeded to slicking back his hair, gingerly brushing the dark bangs out of his eyes. After all, he couldn't risk missing his shots because of messy bangs. "Look, you're... unique. And you're young. You'll draw attention."
Yami gave a small smile. "Whoever sees me will be dead once I'm through."
Seto's eyes narrowed dangerously as he soothed back one last dark lock of hair. It wasn't that he didn't have faith in the boy's abilities... It was just that, well, he's never worked with anyone else before and he wasn't about to take any risky chances. A partner might hold him back or get in his way, things he could never allow to happen.
Perhaps it was better to just lay this whole issue of partnership right on the table. Besides, Seto wasn't planning on keeping Yami around forever.
"Look, kid, whatever is asked of Setep is ultimately asked of me," the assassin murmured, dropping his comb and cocking his gun. He pointed the weapon at Yami to make his point perfectly clear. "If you ever get in my way, I'll kill you."
His threat hung heavily in the air.
Yami stiffened, instantly understanding every implication of that misleadingly simple comment. So... if someone else didn't get to him first, Seto was planning on killing him anyways, regardless of the outcome of this mission and many others to come. The only question that now remained was when.
The boy took a deep, shaky breath. Somehow, he wasn't surprised about the threat at all. He didn't know an assassin's code of honor, but from a principled man like Seto, he shouldn't have expected anything less. Seto was a loner, a one-man army. He could never fully tolerate Yami's intrusion into his life, and Yami could never forgive himself for such an intrusion.
The boy looked away. "I understand."
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Seto was antsy. By some stroke of luck, Le Rouge Chateau was silent and empty, rented out entirely for Diamonde and his crew. Getting inside the resort had been easy enough, but with every step he took, Seto could feel his gut twisting more and more on itself. He had a very bad feeling about all this.
Biting his lip, the assassin shook it off. He had to focus. It wouldn't do if he failed this ridiculously simple assignment, especially in front of Yami.
The two young men crept gingerly through the darkened corridors, their movements as fluid and silent as water. They were but two wraiths in the night, blending easily into the shadows as they darted past some dimly lit rooms and a few emergency lights. The only indications of their presence were some muffled footsteps on the plush carpeting and the occasional flutter of Seto's trench coat.
Their path was frightfully unclear. Yami could do nothing but follow Seto's darting lead with his breath frozen in his throat and his heart pounding loudly in his ears. The hallways of this building were a dizzying maze, constantly splitting again and again into numerous dead ends. How Seto knew his way around was nothing short of a miracle.
Said brunet paused briefly at the end of a dark hallway, his entire body poised like a cat. He nodded noiselessly toward an emergency stairwell.
Without a word, Yami brushed past him and slinked through the exit door, disappearing from sight.
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BHAM!
Seto kicked open the door, throwing himself on the ground. Two gaurds leapt for him, only to receive a harsh kick in the stomach and a bullet between the eyes. Without loosing a second, Seto leapt back on his feet, expecting more resistance.
None came.
The assassin narrowed his eyes as he pointed his gun aimlessly. He had expected more fighting, both inside and outside of the room... Instead, there had only been five sentries outside and just two more inside.
How very... suspicious.
The master suite was a grand, beautiful room with one wall made entirely of glass and furniture fit for royalty. A king size bed decorated the far wall while a marble table and a tall chair decorated the other. It was in this plush chair that a young man sat, dressed in a rather frilly red suit with a glass of champagne in one hand. A wave of silvery hair slid over one side of his face, revealing a glistening, glowing amber eye.
Seto's blood ran cold.
Pegasus.
A wave of emotion hit Seto like a slap in the face, the first and foremost of which was betrayal. For just those few precious moments in the graveyard, Pegasus had unknowingly gained Seto's trust. They had become brothers at heart, sharing a common pain, sharing a loss...
Seto shook himself out of it and swallowed back the dry, bitter taste in his mouth. Don't be silly, he berated himself sternly. He was an assassin. To him, anyone could be the enemy.
Pegasus eyed him curiously, a smug smirk on his face.
A part of Seto's mind was screaming at him to shoot. To shoot and kill and wipe that annoying grin right off the man's face. And all it would take would be one... single... shot...
Seto's trembling fingers tightened on the trigger of his gun, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He couldn't help but see a mourning young man kneeling before him, weeping over the death of his lovely young bride.
"Hello, Setep," Pegasus all but purred, taking a long sip of his wine. "On time, as usual."
Seto stiffened. How...?
Pegasus snapped his fingers. The curtains covering the glass wall began to pull up, one by one. Moonlight poured into the room, illuminating Pegasus first, then the desk, then the bed, then the plush carpeting across the rest of the room.
Seto couldn't breathe, his mind reeling. How... Why... Who...?
The moonlight crept closer, spilling across the floor and slinking up Seto's body to reveal his boots... then his ankles... then his legs... then his gun...
Pegasus took another sip and seemed far too amused at the situation. "Well well, I must admit, I never imagined Setep to be such a deliciously handsome young man..."
Seto snapped out of it as the moonlight began to crawl up his neck to his chin. His face! He couldn't let Pegasus see his face! Screaming at himself inside, the assassin covered his burning face with one hand and bolted from the room in a flash of black vinyl.
Within a blink of an eye, men in black suits began pouring in from every direction. They flew out of Pegasus's closet and leapt from the ceiling, some forcing their way through the glass wall and shattering the window into a flurry of broken pieces.
Seto sprinted through the dark hall at neck-breaking speed, his breathing hard and fast in his chest. He could hear an army of men exploding into action around him, surprising him from closets he had overlooked and doorways that he was sure had been locked before. The hallways were literally filling up with the enemy.
It's a trap, Seto realized with a jolt. They were after Setep all along. They were after him.
The man bit the inside of his mouth until he could feel it bleed. He was angry, so so angry... He had been a careless fool. He should have known, should have guessed, should have pulled back... Not only had he failed a mission for the first time in his life, he had also been cleverly set up. And Seto Kaiba HATED being set up.
The brunet was shooting madly now, driven by instinct and a great deal of anger. Bullets ricocheted off the walls, the muzzle flashes of guns so numerous that they lit up the hallways with blinding, eerie light.
Seto felt two bullets whiz pas his ear as he threw himself around the bend of a dark hallway. The position gave him an advantage, albeit a small one. He took a few seconds to breathe, then began shooting mercilessly down the way he came, taking down man after man after man. Pained screams began to fill the air, sounding like music to Seto's ears.
A flash of crimson and black caught the man's eye.
Yami was sprinting down the hallway from the opposite direction, shooting occasionally over his shoulder at his own flock of pursuers. The boy screeched to a stop and settled down against the corner opposite Seto's, his eyes somewhat wild. He said nothing, but his silence asked a million questions.
"Its a trap," Seto stated, as if they both didn't know that already. The assassin pursed his lips and shot briefly over the T-shaped bend of the hallway. A wave of bullets met him and he quickly retreated back against the wall.
This wasn't helping. They were still brutally outnumbered, and they were trapped unless they could find a way out.
Yami watched curiously as Seto began to feel along the walls blindly, trying every door he found and giving them a good kick or two. There was a loud crunch when two double doors gave way, followed by the flutter of a heavy trench coat as Seto disappeared inside to check it out. A second later, a hand with a gun appeared, waving the boy in.
Yami glanced at the crowd of men racing down the hall, then back at the open door just a few feet down the corridor. So close, yet so far...
The boy took a deep breath and ran for it.
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They found themselves in a large, vast casino room filled with game machines, bars and abandoned blackjack tables. Yami blinked and lowered his weapon, baffled by his surroundings. He had never been in a casino before... or if he had, he couldn't remember.
Seto took a few minutes to jam the door as best he could before he ambled over to a small bar in the middle of the chamber. Sitting on a stool and pouring himself some champagne, the brunet brought the slender glass to his lips and sipped delicately. "Good wine," he murmured gruffly, offering some to Yami.
The boy shook his head and made a face, then jumped a little when the jammed door behind him suddenly rattled and shook.
They both glanced at it. Seto's lips pursed. True, they were still trapped, but now they had one major advantage; the door. The men outside would have to force themselves through the door in threes or fours, exposing themselves to the quick aim of the two young men inside. It wasn't the best of plans, but it was all they had to work with.
Seto calmly sipped some more wine and spotted a bowl of popcorn. "Want some?" He held it up toward Yami as the banging on the door grew louder and louder.
Yami shot the door an unreadable look, then turned toward Seto and the popcorn. There was a strange glint in his eyes, a sudden sparkle of an idea. He gave a small, rare smile. "Sure. I'd love some."
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"Kill the lights."
BZZT. The butt of a gun made contact with an electrical panel on the wall. The panel flickered once and died.
The hallway went pitch black.
"Everyone got their googles?"
A chorus of "Yes".
"On my count... One... Two... THREE!"
CRASH. The door collapsed from the outside and splintered into pieces as two men crashed simultaneously into the hard wood. Instantly, the first four men were braced against the doorway, guns out and cocked.
It was deathly silent. The casino would have been pitch black if it hadn't been for the slivers of moonlight trickling in from a distant window.
"Go," one of the men whispered, his voice strained. "Search the interior."
Two nearby men nodded and stood carefully, taking a slow step forward.
CRUNCH.
Every man within hearing distance jumped at the sound. Popcorn! There was popcorn all over the ground!
BHAM! BHAM!
Two separate gunshots fired from two separate directions. Two men collapsed neatly.
Startled silence.
Pulling back his arm, Yami rested quietly against the side of a game machine, his eyes closed in concentration. He seemed unnaturally serene in such a desperate and tense battle. In reality, however, the boy's nerves were on edge, his senses hypersensitive to the point of pain. His gift at killing was aching to be put to use, and the boy knew that this was not the time nor place to fight it.
CRUNCH.
Yami didn't bother shift his body or open his eyes. He raised his arm and fired once.
BHAM.
The man collapsed.
A ghost of a smile flitted across Yami's lips. It wasn't a smile of joy, nor the victorious grin of a young boy. It was the smirk of a killer.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Pegasus could see the young man now, crouched against a table that could hardly hide his tall frame. The assassin was still a boy really... hardly old enough to be called a man. They had been shown pictures of him as a child, when he was nothing more than a little squirt with big hair and massive blue eyes. It would be a pity to see him die, but alas, he couldn't be allowed to live.
Pegasus pursed his lips as he drew his slender blade from his belt. His harness effortlessly accommodated the movement, his lifeline stretching to hold his weight as he was lowered downward from the ceiling.
Twenty feet now...
The assassin shifted his weight and shot twice, killing two men by the doorway before he quickly retreated back to his crouched position.
Fifteen... twelve...
Pegasus's eyes flashed eerily under his goggles as his blade came up into a thrusting position. He hadn't been allowed to use a gun because people too often collapsed from a gun wound only to get right up later. A knife wound, on the other hand, kept people down. Permanently.
Ten... eight... six...
Seto strained his eyesight. It was extremely dark in the room, but with the help of the moonlight, he was able to catch a few glimpses of the big, lumbering men that continuously poured in through the door. He fired occasionally, taking some down that got too close for comfort, but Yami was mainly doing all the work, killing man after man with an almost mechanical rhythm.
Seto shifted a little to his left, glancing at where he knew Yami was. The boy was invisible to him from such a distance, but he seemed to be alive and well, if the repeated shots from that direction meant anything.
Suddenly, two glowing, crimson gems flickered to life in the dark.
It took Seto a second to realize they were Yami's cat-like eyes glowing in the rays of moonlight. Now, why would Yami to be looking over here...?
The assassin turned over his shoulder, catching a flash of metal. He had enough experiences with blades to know what that meant. With an alarmed cry, the brunet dropped and rolled, firing three shots blindly toward the source of the flashing silver knife.
There was a pained, startled gasp followed by the dull thud of a body dropping to the ground.
Seto pulled in desperate breath after breath, his heart pounding painfully in his chest. That had been far too close. Swallowing harshly, he crawled carefully over toward the body, drawn by curiosity.
He first came across a well-fitted blade, which he kicked away nervously. He then came across an arm... and a chest... and a face...
"Pegasus..." Seto whispered, finding his throat unbearably dry. His eyes flashed with fury as he brought up his gun, aiming it for the other man's temple. "You bastard."
Pegasus's gold eyes fluttered open weakly, glazed over with pain as they shifted toward Seto. The man's visage was remarkably calm, devoid of fear or anger or hate. Seto recognized that face. It was the expression of a doomed man, one that was willing to accept his death peacefully.
"Seto Kaiba..." Pegasus whispered, his voice soft and weak. "What a remarkable name..."
So, Seto thought numbly, his face HAD been seen. Either that or Pegasus knew who he was long before they met, which was a very frightening thought.
"Only distantly related to the Black Isle Kaiba's, you say...?" Pegasus managed with a dry laugh.
Seto's eyes narrowed in annoyance. "Who sent you?" he snarled as he tightened his grip on his gun. "Whose after me?"
Pegasus's eyes flickered with a mad gleam, but he was far from delirious. A faint smile touched his lips. "Everyone."
Seto felt a shudder run up his spine. Surely that was a jest... "Who SENT you?"
"Everyone," Pegasus's smile turned dry. "You wouldn't understand..."
"Try me."
Pegasus's eyes closed briefly, then opened with some effort. He was fading fast, but he seemed willing to tempt Seto for now. "Shen Ka."
The name didn't ring a bell whatsoever. Seto frowned. "Who?"
Pegasus's eyes slipped shut again and he began talking in a daze, his voice fading with every word. "Guardians... everywhere... T-they... are guardians... Setep are those chosen..."
Seto's frown deepened. This made absolutely no sense. "Stop talking in riddles," he said, softer this time. He couldn't help but have a little respect for a man battling death.
"Riddles..." Pegasus laughed again, though the sound was strained and harsh. It seemed to have taken all his energy to make it, "My w-wife loved riddles." His eyes opened briefly and slid toward Seto one last time, their once fiery amber pupils now dulled to a copper hue. "Give her some roses for me...?" he whispered, voice so faint Seto could barely hear it.
The brunet swallowed and nodded.
Pegasus breathed a few more times before one last, shallow breath escaped his body. It was a peaceful death, or just about as peaceful as a gun-killed victim could go.
Seto bit his lip hard, closing his eyes briefly to contain a hot, burning wave of grief. "Say hi to Mokie for me..." he whispered, reaching out with a shaky hand to close Pegasus's half-open eyes.
In the distance, he could hear the last remnants of a heated gunfight fading into nothingness. Without looking, he knew they had won. Yami had not let him down, nor had the boy gotten in his way. Somehow, the thought didn't cheer Seto up one bit.
Moments later, a slender body knelt on the other side of Pegasus's prone body. "Did you know him?" Yami asked quietly, out of his element now that the fighting was over. He could not feel the guilt nor grief of killing another, but upon seeing the pain in Seto's eyes, Yami wasn't sure if that was such a bad thing.
Seto didn't answer.
"Were you..." Yami hesitated, "friends?"
Seto's eyes flashed and a forced look of cold difference passed over his face. He stood gracefully, smoothing out his trench coat and tucking his gun into his belt. "No," he answered quietly, "We weren't friends."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Seto had no idea what possessed him to go to the graveyard again. Perhaps it was guilt or something, but he didn't know.
He bought four bouquets and carried them all to the graveyard, ignoring the slight drizzle on his back. The cemetery was empty, as usual. He spent some time with his family, as he always did, but soon found himself making his way down to Cecelia's grave, his last bouquet of roses in his arms.
Pausing to stand before that small grave, Seto suddenly felt very stupid. Foolish, even. Here he was, doing an odd favor for a dead man who once tried to kill him. Someday, he might look back on this experience and laugh at himself.
With a quiet sigh, the assassin knelt and placed the bouquets gently on Cecelia's grave. He paused a little to fiddle with the flowers, making sure they wouldn't blow away in the wind. He then turned on his heel and left quickly for home, feeling a little silly. Cecelia was dead, as was Pegasus. He didn't know either one, and they certainly didn't know him.
Seto closed his eyes briefly. The important thing now was that he was alive and they were not. He would go on to fight more battles and shed more tears and blood. Pegasus, however, would not. Seto would live a life of pain, and Pegasus would have an eternity of peace.
It made Seto wonder which of them was luckier.
Behind him, the clouds began to part for the first time in a week. Slowly, hesitantly, the sun began to shine.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
AN: I know, I know, kinda an anti-climatic ending, but I'm really too tired to care. XD The thing I love about Noir is that it's exciting, touching and sad without being overly dramatic or incredibly angsty. And it's even a bit fluffy at times. My type of story, in other words. :-p I hope you guys enjoyed that chapter, I worked hard on it! Leave me a review or an email or an AIM, whatever you want.
1 - One of my FAAAAVE quotes in the whole world! XD I don't remember who said it though...
2 - Major plot hole here, people... I'm not sure why, but despite how good they are, Mireille and Kirika (the two characters from Noir I based Seto and Yami on, respectively) never use sophisticated technology, despite the fact their enemies use night googles and what not. -shrug- Maybe they must like traditions or something, beats me.