Another Fortunate Accident
Ch. 16 – Hard Landings
Within the hospital break-room, the white-coated doctor turned to his recovering comrade with a smirk. He knew this would stir him up a bit… "Hey, guess who just got admitted downstairs?"
"Wha… who… I don't know… I'm not up for any of your games right now," the other doctor stammered out, rubbing his recent dental work.
"It's an old friend of yours…" the other doctor baited.
The man rubbing his jaw saw the glint in the man's eyes as a pained thought crossed his mind. "No… not her… not that Priscilla woman again…" he stammered out, body beginning to shake uncontrollably.
"Huh? Who?"
"That mad woman who did this to me!" he punctuated by pointing to the bruised and swollen left side of his face.
"Oh… God no…" the white coated man shivered at the terrifying thought of coming face to face with the she-demon once more. "No, just the bypass patient who you've had to operate on three times in the last six months, that's all."
"Whew," the shaken man believingly breathed out. "You had me going there for a second."
"Sorry, but I would never joke about someone like that! If she ever showed up here again… now that would be scary!"
The two doctors turned towards the window of the lounge and watched the storms roll in; darkening skies a prelude to the vicious weather about to hammer into the city.
It was the first time she had ever flown this high outside of her hardsuit… and Priss was sure it was going to be her last. Her only thoughts were of the one love of her life… Katsuro… and the knowledge she was about to join him on the other side. Looks like I'm coming to see you tonight… finally… the words flowing from the lone remaining warm spot left in her otherwise cold and empty soul.
The howling winds ripping around her stopped suddenly… then impossibly gathered together from behind her, the black clouds overhead spinning downward towards her at the same time. Priss' eyes darted side to side, watching as the wispy strands raced to cover the machine beneath her, wrapping around her body as well. She became aware of a lack of motion… or more appropriately she realized, a sensation of weightlessness. Am I dead now?
It was if the cloud was pulling her into the sky, to join with it. She felt an urge to reach up and touch the boiling mass above her… before a brilliant flash snapped her attention forward. The lightning bolt illuminated the other side of the wide chasm showing Priss the path she was now headed on. Gravity seemed to return to the shocked woman as she watched the oncoming mass of land seemingly reach out for her.
Daily ignored the screaming voice of the dispatcher coming from the radio. He also blocked out the choked off sobs coming from his partner in the drivers seat. The only thing the ADP officer could watch was the death flight of the woman named Priss. Somehow he could see the tragic beauty of her actions, and that was enough to hold his gaze in horrid fascination. Even the clouds seemed to join in the fascination as they almost caressed her peaking form with their jutting protrusions angling down from the sky above. With a burst, a whole section of the black mass thrust down around the red machine before it could descend more than a few meters downward. Time stood still as the red machine disappeared into those clouds. Daily gasped as nature's fury enveloped the chasm, obscuring his vision for a few moments. Straining his eyes, he was finally able to see the descending form of the biker… but much further away and much higher than he expected. It was almost if… "...my god…" he whispered under his breath.
"She's gone," Leon darkly assumed, head still bowed on the steering wheel.
"No. I think… she's going to make it across…"
"What!"
Priss gripped the handles on the bike as hard as she still could and readied herself for what appeared to be one of the worse landings she was ever going to live through. While bracing for impact on the other side of the uncompleted bridge, a burst of wind shot out of the edge of the ravine below, slowing her descent. It was just enough…
The suspension of the bike was modified to be strong, stronger than necessary for most riders… Priss was no ordinary rider however. Still, it was never designed to withstand what she had unwittingly dealt upon it. The red machine bounced hard at first, nearly throwing the former biker gang member clean off. She fought hard, maintaining her grip on the beast bucking below her. After a few smaller bounces, Priss skidded to a stop nearly a hundred meters from the edge… that's when the adrenaline rush finally caught up to her.
Still upright and in one piece, the crazed woman threw off her helmet, jumped on the seat of the bike and straight into the air, pumping her fist high into the sky and screaming for all to hear. "HHEELLLL YEEAAHHH!" The bike fell over while she was in the air, causing her to land awkwardly on one leg, falling to the ground on her butt. Still, she threw her head back and laughed until she hurt, even through her now re-aggravated vocal cords. She had one of those kiddish thoughts of actually trying it again for just a second… then though better of it as the sheer distance began to dawn on her as she looked back across from where she had just launched herself. God… I haven't felt this alive in a long time. Even Syila's toys didn't give me this much of a rush. Not since… since… Katsuro… As the reality of what had just happened sank into her heart, a gust of warm wind blew through the buildings she had landed between. For just a brief moment, Priss thought they made almost a human sound. To her ears, that warmth echoed off the walls around her and spoke one word to her… she swore it sounded like the word "Live".
Leon jumped out of the car in time to see Priss jump off the bike on the other side of the chasm. "How in the hell…
"I have no idea," Daily answered from his own dazed state of mind while standing on the other side of the car.
"That must be nearly half a kilometer…"
Just then, the cry from the woman that had just completed the impossible feat reached the two stunned ADP officers.
Daily smiled as he recognized the yell. "I guess someone's a little excited right now."
"I just hope she doesn't try any encores tonight," Leon replied as he cracked a smile as well.
As the echoed scream died away, another fainter voice became audible. Daily recognized the panicked voice coming from inside the road chaser. "Suppose we should let our little blond friend in on the news?"
"I just wish I could see the look on her face," Leon remarked, his smile growing by the second as the deathly fear that had just gripped his own heart continued to slowly lift away.
The sky opened up in that moment, rain beginning to pour down on the two surprised officers. "Guess it's time to get inside anyway," Daily remarked as they both jumped into the shelter the car provided.
Priss had just looked back to notice Leon still on the other side of the ravine when the rain started to fall, the water rinsing off the miles of dirt caked on her clothes. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back, running her hands through her hair in the natural shower. The sight of Leon coupled with the falling rain triggered another memory from the past… of doing nearly the same exact thing. Except that time it hadn't been her hands in her hair… it had been another man's hands… Katsuro's. She stopped for a moment and replaced the present with the past, recalling everything about that time as if it was happening right now. That word echoed in her mind once more… "live". That was the topic of the day… Priss had complained about the rain when she and Katsuro had been out riding, an otherwise perfect day apparently ruined by the rain… at least, until he had suggested other alternatives. Then, while they were entangled with each other, he had said something… just a small phrase…
"You can't change what life gives you… all you can do is just live it," he had softly preached into her ear… just before he had begun nibbling on it.
As she recalled all sensations of that unforgettable event, Priss found that the rain falling on her face was joined with the wetness of fresh tears. Those tears weren't from sadness however, they were borne from the same passion that Katsuro had filled her with that day… a passion she had unknowingly found once again on the streets of MegaTokyo on this unpredictable evening. As she mentally retraced the crazy route she had taken since entering the city, she reflexively looked back across the chasm to Leon, only to have the line of sight clouded by the shielding rain now picking up in intensity. Sheets of falling water covered the wide gap between the two sides of the unfinished bridge, isolating Priss from the vast surrounding city and letting her eyes and thoughts turn inward once again, thinking back to Katsuro once more.
After a few more minutes of sweet reminiscing, Priss recovered her helmet and approached her bike. With an experienced lift she hauled the monster back up, surveying for visible signs of damage. The only ones she could find were paint scrapes and dents covering the right side where she had momentarily impacted a wall avoiding an incomplete roadblock. Satisfied she would find nothing else without turning the engine over she straddled the beast and hit the ignition. The noise that emanated from the machine beneath her sounded ominously like rocks being shaken in a tin can. After a few tense moments, the noise steadied out to a somewhat less alarming tone. Her HUD and other indicators didn't paint a much better picture however.
With fingers crossed, Priss cautiously tried to edge forward on the throttle. When the wheels of the bike didn't immediately being turning, she pushed the engine a bit harder. A noticeable pop vibrated through the frame as the wheels broke free; the red machine wobbling slightly as the leather-clad singer progressed slowly down the rain slicked streets and towards the trailer she still called home. Getting her bearings in the steadily falling rain, Priss noted that luckily she had landed close to that home in the still unrecovered section of MegaTokyo. By contrast, she also realized that the bridge she had just jumped across would, once completed, bring a disturbing order to her otherwise isolated relief in the city.
While nursing the bike out through the other side of the construction zone, Priss noted with relief the lack of any police presence waiting for her. They probably think I'm coming back the other side… or already dead… A cold chill, aided by the wetness of her clothes, traversed up and down her spine at that thought… just a further reminder of what she had accomplished.
After a few minutes of praying to every God Priss had never believed in before, she finally made it to the trailer. She dropped the stand and killed the engine, noting that she probably had nothing but fumes in the tank, assuming of course it would start up again. With that thought came the realization of repairs… and who would normally work on the bike. A large knot turned over in her stomach at the thought of asking Nigel to help. Officially, he wasn't a Knight Saber. Unofficially, Priss knew he was attached to Sylia at the hip. The main problem was she had been to enough other mechanics in the city to know she didn't trust anyone else to work on her bike.
Pulling an old tarp over the wounded beast, Priss headed indoors to escape the inclement weather. She pulled her helmet off once inside and was setting it on the table when she noticed the object resting idle next to it… the offending object that just 24 hours previous had started the chain reaction of crazy events that had just transpired. Priss raised a shaking fist high above the table, but somehow resisted the overwhelming urge to smash the small phone into pieces. Lowering her arm, she slumped down into a chair and stared at the phone. The bitterness that she had driven so hard to escape flowed back through her blood from its resting spot inside of her blackened heart. She recalled the phone message, the E-mails, the song, the ride into the country, the kiss…then pushed forward in her memory.
She dwelled on the thrill of the chase, riding on the edge with the piercing blasts of guitars and screeching vocals pushing her through every twist and turn of the open highway. Past that, she pondered the picture of Leon's pleading eyes… and all the possible meanings he held behind them. With that internal picture the focus of her attention, she rose up from the table and away from the small, plastic symbol of pain that rested on it. She mindlessly crossed the floor of her not-so-mobile home until she reached the permanently cold shower. Turning the supply on, she peeled off the chilling clothes still stuck to her body and crept in. Even though her shivering skin actually felt relieved by the cold cleansing flow of water, Priss' mind didn't notice. She became lost in Leon's eyes… Why did you have to find me tonight? Why try and stop me? How much do you know about Linna?
After as little time in the shower as she could stand and still feel clean, Priss dried off and threw on a shirt and underwear. After noticing that she was absolutely starving from being on (and above) the road all day, she grabbed some quick leftovers from the fridge. That need met, the singer collapsed in bed with some of the music that had accompanied her wild ride following her there as well. Cautious thoughts of Leon intermixed with reminisces of Katsuro and the nearly alive clouds that had somehow aided her rough landing. It wasn't the first time her thoughts were filled with the burly ADP officer… but it seemed like forever ago that he had been in the front of them considering the events after the accident. A worn smile began to crack from behind Priss' shell at the idea of what Katsuro would think of her and a cop together.
As the storm clouds continued to roll through the city overhead, Priss' own thoughts churned over as well… her weary body once again robbed of rest by her own restless mind…
"Why didn't I just take a bus?" Nene complained to herself as her tired and overworked body threw in protests with every step as well. She really needed some time to think after everything that had just happened on the last shift, and a few extra minutes to herself seemed like a good idea. Add to that fact that after the rain had passed, the air had a certain fresh smell to it that seemed inviting at the time. A couple of kilometers later, it didn't seem so inviting anymore.
Even with the two days off she had now from her ADP duties, she knew Sylia wouldn't give her any rest as long as they were still looking for that 'phenomenon' somewhere in underground Tokyo. They way her body felt right now, she'd need at least that long just to start to feel normal again. As the muscles in her right leg began to ache in earnest, she found herself longing for Mackey's company… and his expert hands. Somehow those hands transmitted more than just physical relief for the nearly worn out teenager. And right now, Nene needed every bit of emotional relief she could get.
She never considered Priss a close friend, if even a friend at all. Still, her apparent brush with death had shaken Nene almost as much as her own close call just a few days before. It had taken more than just one cup of herbal tea to settle her nerves down after hearing the unbelievable news from Daily and Leon. She had taken some solace in the fact that Leon's voice had sounded nearly as rattled as she felt.
After regaining some of her focus, Nene had begun to monitor the regular police frequencies again when she realized Priss' new predicament. Assuming she really was OK as her field counterparts had claimed, the police wouldn't stop until she was behind bars… or worse. Even if she had quit the Knight Sabers, Nene wasn't going to let that happen if she could help it. She frantically began hacking into the regular police's databases in order to alter or delete all records of her sightings, hoping that in the confusion they wouldn't have enough data to continue to pursue her.
By the end of the shift, the young hacker had fished out the few actual accurate reports in the police computer network and replaced them with conflicting information. The only wildcard was if anyone had a good enough view of the red bike to have a distinct memory to contradict the lies in the system. Nene had bet that Priss' speed alone would have made that near impossible, not to mention the darkness and the sudden rainstorm.
Nene sighed in the present as she thought about how lucky Priss was not only to be alive right now but to not be in jail as well. She realized that if the strong storms hadn't blown in when they did, the police's regular helicopters would have been following her up the bridge and would have found her on the other side. Luckily, the only pursuit Priss had at the time was in the form of Leon, and Nene was sure he wasn't going to tell where Priss was.
The blond haired girl spotted a bus stop up ahead and scurried on to find the schedule posted inside a weather barrier. She cross-checked the bottom of the schedule with her watch… "Dammit," she softly moaned at finding she had missed the last bus by just ten minutes. She looked down the sparsely busy road with sagging eyes as Nene began to drag herself the last few kilometers to the Silky Doll. "I'm going to start wearing my hardsuit to work if Sylia wants me to keep this up…"
Millions of stars shone brightly against the black background of the country sky overhead. Even the brilliantly dull arcing smear known as the Milky Way was clearly visible in the moonless night. This spectacular view went unappreciated by the inhabitants below however. They further ignored the warm gentle breeze blowing through the trees closer to the ground, as well as the night creatures rustling through and under those trees. The focus of these particular inhabitants was clearly introspective in the case of one, and squarely on the inwardly directed one in the other.
The older woman sat with her legs crossed facing the back of that other person. The other woman, still wearing the same dirty and torn shirt, wasn't aware of her elder behind her. For that matter, Linna wasn't aware of much of anything at the moment. As she lay on her side facing the lush countryside, the only thing her eyes were focused on was the inside of her eyelids… and nothing Misa tried could rouse her from her slumber. That was because the rest wasn't exactly a naturally induced one. A fairly tall and very empty bottle of saki sat upright just next to the stone drunk woman lying pillowless and blanketless just outside of her home.
Misa hadn't realized Linna had even left her room, or that she had gotten the saki from the wine cellar. She wasn't even sure what time it was now, only that it was very late and she was very tired herself. She wasn't getting much sleep anyway when something had triggered her motherly "it just doesn't feel right" instinct, causing her to get up and check on Linna. When she didn't find her in her room, Misa began the second panicked search for her daughter in as many days.
She didn't see Linna as much as smell where she was by the stench of alcohol coming from the open door to one of the porches of the house. Following that smell, she found her and immediately began to try and wake her. A few slurred mumbles and jerks of her body told Misa that Linna was alive, if not entirely well. Attempting to lift the drunken woman by herself only proved that her daughter had grown quite a bit since the last time she had tried to carry her anywhere. So she had simply sat down behind her and proceeded to watch Linna's breathing while Misa tried to figure out what to do next.
After a few more minutes of struggling to keep her own eyes opened, she finally settled on a "wait till morning" approach. She stood up and crossed the house into Linna's room where she found her pillow resting on the floor against the wall opposite the bed. Picking up the pillow, Misa pulled a blanket off the bed while noting the computer screen was darker than normal. The computer was on as evidenced by the icons on the desktop. However, the background image of two hardsuited figures was removed… replaced with an empty black void of nothingness.
Even though Misa knew exactly why Linna had done it, the discovery still surprised and saddened the older woman. She left the room behind and found Linna still on the porch outside, lying exactly as she had left her. Misa gently tucked the pillow under Linna's head and drew the blanket to cover over her ripped clothes. Before leaving, she leaned over, brushed the oily, sticky hair out of her face and placed a soft kiss on her forehead.
Linna stirred slightly at the caring touch and mumbled something under her liquor-laced breath. Misa thought it sounded like she had said "Priss", but wasn't exactly sure. Linna's body fell still once more except for the repetitious rising and falling of her side barely visible under the blanket.
Linna's mother sighed deeply, and then let out a weary yawn. She turned around sluggishly and left her daughter to try and get some much needed rest. As she climbed back into bed, she finally glanced over at the clock, thinking about how soon she would have to get up in order to drive Linna to her scheduled doctor's appointment… assuming she actually thought she could get her there based on the shape she would likely be in the morning. Misa pondered that thought for a while before another lingering concern drew out of the background… the balance between hiding Linna's personal problems with the need to explain some things to her father. Even if he somehow didn't notice Linna sleeping outside in the morning, he'd definitely take notice of the missing bottle of saki later. I'll worry about that in a couple of hours… besides, he never gets up unless I kick him out of bed anyway…
… oh… oh god… not now… the white hardsuit shakily thought while holding both sides of her helmet. Not yet… haven't… got there… got to keep… going… struggling to keep her thoughts to herself, not wanting to distract Nene from her own ongoing search. Sylia had just dropped down to one of the lowest levels she had been to yet when the walls had begun spinning on her, causing her to lose the grip on the large gun-like sensor she hauled. It fell to the ground with a resonating metallic clang.
With strained effort, she reached down with one arm while steadying herself with the other. Picking up the detector, Sylia staggered down the tunnel she had found bringing her close to the intended inspection point. She focused her eyes enough to tell she was only a few meters away from her virtual goal when a nearly invisible green wave shimmered through the cavern. As it passed through her hardsuit, the walls pitched violently causing Sylia to crash headfirst into the solid concrete below… her world turning black instantly.
The vaguely familiar roar of a motorcycle accelerating roused a very still Leon McNichol from the depths of his own blackness. The brightness of filtered daylight temporarily blinded him as he turned his head reflexively in the direction of the departing sound. His eyes focused just in time to make out a large red bike with a very familiar looking woman atop as she quickly rode away through the ruined buildings surrounding him.
Leon shook his head and rubbed his eyes as he realized he was sitting rather uncomfortably on a concrete slag. Confused, he looked around to try and get his bearings, only to find himself staring at the large yellow trailer beside him. Everything came back to him in that instant. He remembered riding out on his own bike after his shift was over, telling himself he just wanted to make sure Priss actually made it back to her trailer in one piece. He had only found out where she lived a couple of days previous during some of his mostly fruitless personal investigations into the woman he suspected of being the blue Knight Saber.
After discovering her bike under a tarp next to the trailer, Leon had started to leave when second thoughts stopped him in his tracks. There was so much he still wanted to find out about her… and after nearly losing her forever a few hours before, he didn't want to just assume he'd get another chance later.
Not brave enough to knock on the door at the late hour it was at the time, Leon had instead decided to wait, guessing that Priss wouldn't be sleeping in given her rather erratic behavior of late. Leon looked down at his watch, noting that he was right in that assumption. It wasn't even seven in the morning yet and Priss had already left for somewhere else. The ADP officer sighed as he wanted to kick himself for falling asleep and missing his opportunity, although he wondered why Priss hadn't tried to wake him… politely or otherwise.
The large man stretched out his long arms as he vainly attempted to work out the kinks from his unconventional sleeping arrangements. As he lowered his arms, his left hand brushed against something fairly hot. His reflexes pulled his arm away as he looked down into a cup of what appeared to be hot, fresh coffee. Leon had to rub his eyes again to make sure he was really seeing what he thought was sitting beside him. He looked up in the direction that Priss had driven off as a small grin grew across his face.
Lifting up the cup of coffee, Leon wondered if he wasn't going to find out at least some of the answers to his questions after all.
"Sylia! Sylia!" The voice shouted through the helmet of the unconscious woman. That voice began to draw her out of the reprieve, and back into the terrifying world filled with shards of pain and waves of agony. Still she resisted, her subconscious trying to shield itself from the danger outside.
"Sylia! Where are you!" Nene screamed into the tunnels below, unable to get a firm fix on her location due to unknown interferences in the dark underground. She had frantically searched for the last hour solid, using the last of her precious spare batteries in the process. "Mackey, anything?"
"I can't get a better reading no matter what I try," he responded in frustration, staring at the blinking signals in front of him from his remote console in the Lady 633 building. According to his screen, Nene should be right on top of Sylia. For some reason, reality wasn't matching indications right now, driving home a sense of helplessness he hadn't felt since Nene's near brush with death.
A weak groan broadcast over the com channel, startling both searchers.
"Sylia? Sylia, where are you! Talk to me!" Nene blurted out while cautiously watching her sensors for any better indication of where the Knight Sabers' leader had fallen. She held her breath waiting for a response. Finally, sensors flared showing something moving not too far from where the Red Saber currently stood.
"I've got something!"
"Is it Sylia?" Mackey questioned expectantly.
"Hold on. I'm checking," she cautioned, sprinting through the tunnel she was in. Homing in on the new signal, she found it pulling her through a broken section of the wall. Proceeding cautiously, Nene climbed through a pile of debris to emerge into yet another tunnel. Another groan crept through the com system as she hurried in the direction of the signal. Rounding a dimly lit corner, a light colored metallic shape lay sprawled out on the ground, a familiar looking object dormant by her side.
"I found her! Sylia! Sylia, can you hear me?"
"… unnnh… N… Nene?… Wh… where am…" she started to ask as she began to pull herself upright. The thought of motion from her mind fed into the hardsuit, which started to respond as well. Before she knew what was happening, sonic waves of fire shot through her temples, scattering any coherent thoughts she may have had. Balling up into a near fetal position, the suffering woman clutched her helmet, moaning in unrelenting agony.
"Sylia, what's wrong?" Nene cried, not understanding what was happening to her leader.
The moaning and shouting threw Mackey into fits as well. "Nene, what's going on!"
"Sylia's curled up on the ground… holding her helmet… Wait… the headaches!" the not-so-young teenager finally pieced together some of the puzzle in front of her. Putting a hand on the fallen white hardsuit, Nene wasn't sure how to help immediately. Deciding there wasn't much she could do underground, the Red Saber tried to lift Sylia, only to have the still groaning suit stiffen at her attempt. "Mackey, I can't carry her like this…"
The other teenager had some theories based on his hardsuit research with Nigel that quickly came to mind. "Try getting her helmet off first… see if that helps."
"O… Ok," Nene answered waveringly, not sure exactly where this was going and not exactly feeling comfortable with her surroundings. Deciding they were as isolated here as anywhere, she reached down and, as gently as she could, lifted the helmet from Sylia's resisting hands and off of her head. Beads of sweat rolled off her forehead as the blank glaze covering the white haired woman's unresponsive eyes startled Nene. Sylia's hands reflexively returned to hold her throbbing head, still groaning audibly from the unrelenting stabs of torment.
"Sylia… Sylia… " Nene softly called to the shaking woman on the floor. Not seeing any immediate effects, she knelt down to her head while continuing to call her name. Prying back one of Sylia's trembling hands, she held it in her own… and was rewarded with a returning grip from her fallen leader.
Slowly the mental fog lifted from her eyes as the pain began to subside, thoughts becoming coherent once again. "Wh… What happened… my… my helmet's…" she complained, starting to pull away from Nene and search for the concealing object.
"No! Sylia, stop. We think that's what's been causing your headaches," the Red Saber chided, holding firm onto the hand she had in her own.
Sylia continued to struggle, finding her helmet and grabbing it with her free hand. "… got to… find her… can't stop…."
"Her? Who are you talking about? Wait! Sylia, hold on!"
Nene watched in helpless frustration as Sylia managed to pull her hand out of the armored grasp and remount her helmet. She continued to watch as the White Saber tried to pull herself up, managing to lift up her torso with shaking arms. Just as one armored leg was drawn up underneath to push Sylia upright, a piercing scream blasted through the com channel.
Nene's own hands jerked to her ears to vainly try and block out the deafening sound, her whole body wincing from the pain. While busy attempting to relieve her own discomfort, Nene found herself unable to help the stricken leader of the Knight Sabers.
The white armored figure arched impossibly backwards, her whole body shifting from face down to upright, then falling backwards in an instant. Sylia's armored hands once again grabbed both sides of the helmet in a pointless attempt to help. With no support, her head slammed backwards into the concrete, neck snapping violently from the involuntary collision… blackness once again overcoming her conscious mind.
"Sylia! Nene, what's going on! I thought I heard Sylia through the com channel again!"
Nene didn't immediately answer as she checked her readings from her hardsuit, making sure the White Saber was still alive. "The idiot put her helmet back on again! She fell and hit her head into the ground. She's unconscious now, but I think she's OK otherwise." Testing the now limp white hardsuit, the Red Saber hauled Sylia up on her shoulder, picked up the detector with the other arm and started to head out of the underground maze. "I'm heading up with her now," she announced, concern filtering through her otherwise disgusted voice.
"OK. I'll get Henderson and Nigel and tell them to be ready," Mackey replied while thinking ahead.
"Tell them to bring something to tie her down with. We've got to keep her out of her hardsuit!" she commented seriously, while exiting one tunnel and emerging into another.
"Maybe Nigel has something…" the young boy started not so innocently.
"Mackey!"
"Sorry… it's just…"
"Oh shit… my battery!" Nene interrupted worriedly, noticing for the first time just how low her last energy source had drained to. "She had been so concerned with Sylia the blond girl had forgotten about checking her own power supply. Carrying the extra weight of two detectors and a hardsuit as well wasn't helping matters either. Running as fast as she could given the awkward stance she had to take, Nene managed to reach one of the higher stairwells from a ruined subway station before the battery died. "Oh… Oh God!" she exclaimed, dropping the now immensely heavy detectors along with Sylia.
"Nene! Where are you now?" Mackey frantically called out to his teammate.
"I'm n… in a subway stairwell."
"Does Sylia have any of her spare batteries?" he suggested.
Nene's own armor grew heavier by the second as she collapsed beside Sylia on the vacant stairs, unable to support the weight of her own hardsuit with her otherwise frail frame. "N… No. I d… didn't see any," she struggled out, panic overtaking her previously calm voice.
"What about Sylia's battery?"
With Sylia lying face down on the stairs, Nene was able to see that as a fruitless exercise as well. "Just about dead… assuming I could get it off of her… since… I can barely… rais… m… han…" her voice trailed off as the signal strength began to weaken considerably.
Before she could finish the sputtering message, Mackey sprung from the chair of the console and over to one of the lockers in the pit. Searching for what he was sure had to be somewhere close by, he began ripping through equipment on every shelf. A cracking voice drew his attention away after about a minute of searching.
"…key… Ma… p.. er … dead n. sig…"
"Nene! Just hold on. If you can still here me, I'll bring spare batteries out to you!"
"…K…" was his static filled answer.
He tore away from the console and through the pit, looking for the mobile detector he needed to find the hardsuits… trying not to think too much about the woman he was so concerned about, helpless, and alone except for his unconscious sister by her side.
"A week! You can't be serious!" the leather-clad woman swore out at the unfazed mechanic carefully inspecting the barely standing remains of her bike.
"Could be sooner," he reevaluated… before one of the forward struts completely cracked in half as he tested its residual strength with one finger. "…might be longer…"
Priss huffed at the news, and at her helplessness at the situation. She knew there was nothing she could do to change what was already done, but the thought of being without one of her most necessary crutches for more than a day was painful nonetheless. "Are you sure… At least a week…"
"With all the damage to the frame, I'm wouldn't be surprised if it didn't require a total rebuild from scratch," Nigel added without a hint of compassion. "Of course, it wouldn't take as long if I knew I could count on help with this."
Priss thought about the comment for a second before giving up on the true meaning. "What, you want me to help you?"
"Actually, I was referring to the lack of assistance I'll have… when he finds out I'm working on your bike."
Priss understood his meaning now with a deep frown. "So just what are you suggesting I do to change Mackey's mind? And just why wouldn't he want to help out with my bike… it's not like he's…" Priss started before having doubts about what she knew about the current internal workings of the Knight Sabers.
Nigel continued to pull out cracked and broken pieces and Priss turned over the situation in her mind. "Would he really hold that much of a grudge against me?" she asked, internally wondering if it wasn't for her bike if she would care at all.
"He's worried about Nene being on her own now."
"It's not like she's alone. Sylia's helping her, isn't she?" Priss thought she realized the fundamental error in her question as soon as she said it… she just didn't know how right she was.
Nigel answered by picking up a socket set and sizing up the one he needed.
Even though she didn't really expect him to answer, the fact the mechanic didn't still angered her. "Well, do you still hold a grudge against me too?" Priss bitterly asked, long dormant emotions for the person who maintained her bike cracking through the surface as well.
Nigel stood up and without looking at Priss walked over to one of the cleaner benches in the garage and grabbed a laptop. Priss watched with growing fury as she tried to figure out if he was still ignoring her or if this was her answer in some odd fashion. After a tense minute, a printer across the garage began to whir as a lone sheet of paper emerged into the output tray. Nigel crossed the distance to the printer and retrieved the paper. He walked directly up to Priss and handed her the page without so much as a sliver of emotion on his face. "Your estimate…" he announced as she took the paper from him with confusion ruling her thoughts.
"Why… What the HELL!" she fired out at him with only a verbal assault, although she considered much worse. Looking back down at the sheet of paper, the numbers sent her mind spinning. "God… Over a million…"
Nigel remained in his still stoic approach. "I couldn't give you the usual employee discount this time. Feel free to try somewhere else if you're not happy with our pricing."
It took everything Priss had left to keep from launching herself at the much bigger man. "Damn you Nigel," she seethed out between her clinched teeth. She crumpled up the page and flung it across the garage leaving Nigel to clean up the waste.
A ringing phone from within the building pulled the mechanic inside as Priss stormed out, not waiting around for any more abuse to be dealt her way. As she walked down the sidewalk towards a payphone, Priss realized that the bill would wipe out half of her savings. Coupled with the fact she was her own manager for the band… and that she often lost money trying to keep the band together and playing frequently (especially with studio fees), she'd be in serious financial trouble if anything else happened soon. She began to realize just how much for granted she had taken Nigel's help before… and how much she missed the extra paycheck from Sylia.
"I'm not some call girl though!" she resolved through her hatred at the way Sylia had used her in the past. Reaching the phone, she dialed up Maxon's number as she thought about what to do for transportation for the day. She realized that with a show tonight, she'd probably be OK. She just didn't like the idea of relying for anyone else for a ride...
Masaki put down his briefcase to answer the ringing phone that had caught him just before walking out the door. "Hello?"
"Masaki? Glad I caught you before you left," an older male voice answered on the other end.
"Dad? I was just leaving now. You didn't want me to be in early today, did you?" the blond man questioned a tad nervously, mentally reviewing what might be the reason for his early morning call.
"No. I just wanted to talk to you about something before you got here," his father replied sternly. "It's about that Yamazaki girl you went out with yesterday."
While glad that he didn't live with his parents, Masaki knew that being in the same small town with them didn't provide anything in the way of shelter from their continuous inspections. "So you heard?"
"I would apologize for setting you up with her, but you seem to have forgotten your priorities, now haven't you?"
"And what's that supposed to mean," he replied with a hint of anger creeping out of his voice.
"I'll admit I had no idea about that girl's other… interests…, but pursuing a relationship with someone who has a fruitless future like hers…"
Masaki tuned out his father after that. Despite being afraid of this very situation arising, he had convinced himself that he could handle his parents if things really did work out between he and Linna. That's why he realized it was pointless to argue with his father on this issue. After yesterday, he didn't see any possible way he could ever work things out with the woman who he now realized he knew so little about.
The reverberating sound of a door slamming shut shook Misa from her light slumber. Her eyes quickly focused enough to realize that her husband wasn't in bed anymore. Glancing around, she noted with growing anxiety that he wasn't in the bedroom anywhere. Springing upright, she immediately found the clock. Alarms sounded off in her head as she discovered what time it was. "He wouldn't have left for work yet!" Misa began reasoning nervously with herself as she leaped out of bed and threw on her robe. Questions and concerns surged through her mind over what she didn't tell him last night about Linna and what he might be finding out right now. She hadn't been too worried about him waking up and finding Linna since he never got out of bed without her incessant prompting in the morning. However, she hadn't slept much after finding the rough condition her daughter was in just a few hours previous. As a consequence, she had overslept and for once, her husband had apparently gotten out of bed by himself. Nearly sprinting out of the bedroom, she flew through the house looking for any clue as to what was going on.
She was turning the corner towards the kitchen when a pale, deathly figure nearly ran into her from the opposite side. "Linna? You're up…" she started before more important questions came to mind. "What's going on? Did your father see you?" she spat out intently.
Linna tried to answer before swooning against the wall and barely holding herself upright. She groaned out a protest as a hand shielded her eyes from the morning sunlight. "Wh… Why was I outside?" she squeaked out, apparently ignoring her mother's questions.
Just then the sound of a car starting followed by what sounded like gravel being torn out of the ground filtered through the thin walls of the house.
"Oh no," Misa cried out rushing to the front windows to see Linna's father tearing down the road from their home. She ran back to Linna who was now crumpled over on a chair at the kitchen table, holding her temple with both hands. "Did he say anything… before he left?"
"Who?" Linna asked confused.
"Your Father!" her mother nearly yelled out from frustration.
"Yeah. I think… something… preaching… to some planners…" the hungover woman tried to piece together the reality that wasn't making any sense, before dropping her head on the table in exhaustion from the effort.
"Preaching to some planners?" Misa questioned, wondering if the saki wasn't still flowing strong in Linna's system for a moment. Suddenly, a likely translation dawned on her mind. "Linna, are you sure it wasn't teach…" she started before bolting into her daughter's room to confirm her fears. Masaki's jacket that Linna had worn home yesterday was gone… and Misa knew the likely reason why. She found a clock in Linna's room and upon reconfirming the time realized she could either try and chase her husband down… except she didn't know exactly where he was going… or she could try and make Linna's doctor's appointment, since she barely had enough time as it was to get ready and drive out to where the office was located. In growing frustration, she walked into the kitchen and looked her daughter over. Although she knew wouldn't like it, Linna probably needed to see a doctor now more than anything else.
With that decided, her thoughts briefly turned back to Linna's father… and where he was likely going. Her lips dreadfully mirrored what her husband had probably said when he found the ragged woman outside, "…teach him some manners…"
The blond girl stared at the laborious breathing of the unconscious woman, lying sans helmet on the stairwell. Unable to do much more than sit upright, she leaned against a wall on the stairs with her own helmet sitting beside her. After vainly attempting to manually eject the battery and thus open her hardsuit, the smallest saber found herself with one regret. Just wish I'd joined Linna on a few of her workouts
With the extra time so unceremoniously given to her, Nene thought back to Linna, wondering how she was coping back home. I would've E-mailed her… except she said that she needed some time away from us… the teenager explained to her own self-conscious. She thought further back to the events that had led to Linna leaving the group, and of the woman who delivered the terrible blow.
Recalling Priss' excursion the previous day, Nene realized she never had a chance to talk to Sylia about it… the Knight Saber's leader had been too preoccupied with getting the night's search underway. Deciding there was no better time than the present… and that she wasn't going anywhere in her armored prison anyway, Nene started off.
Over the next few minutes, Nene recapped all the important events of the previous evening for the unresponsive Sylia. "… then I couldn't find a bus on the way over to the pit…" she continued until the sound of approaching footsteps broke her concentration. Looking up the stairwell, the dim outline of a humanoid shape came into view. Nene's heart stopped for a moment before a joyfully familiar voice called down to her.
"Nene? Nene, it's you!" Mackey cried out, flashlight in one hand, detector in the other, along with a small bag hung from a shoulder.
"Well, who else would it be?" she tried to say in a joking manner, but her voice cracked as tears welled in her eyes at his welcome presence.
"Hang on, I'll have you up in no time," he promised, pulling a spare battery pack and an odd shaped tool from the bag. "Just turn around a little…"
Nene complied as best she could, turning as much as she could manage without risking falling down the rest of the stairs below. The sound of metal on metal behind her unnerved her slightly as Mackey continued to pry at the old battery.
"This is so much easier when the emergency reserve still has power left," he noted dryly. "Ah, got it!" he announce proudly as the distinct clicking sound of latches disengaging reverberated throughout the hallway. "Just one second… there!"
Nene could almost feel the new electricity flowing through her own skin as the hardsuit grew light as a feather on her touch again. Standing up, she was about to pick up her helmet when Mackey threw something else in her direction. She caught the plastic bag in one hand and inspected the markings in the unlit underground by the flashlight Mackey had brought with him. "Chips!"
"Thought you might be hungry. I grabbed a bag on my way to get my bike," he reported. The young boy turned to aid his sister when two strong arms picked him up from behind and turned him around in midair. When they lowered him back down, his back was against the wall and a very appreciative pair of lips were firmly pressed against his own.
After the lingering kiss was done, Nene pulled away from him slowly and spoke directly from the heart without any reservations at all. "I love you Mackey Stingray."
Even though he didn't fully understand all the ramifications of the statement, nor the implications of what this could lead to, he still responded in the manner that seemed the most appropriate… and expressed everything his own soul felt at that moment. "I love you Nene Romanova."
That led to yet another, longer kiss… before Mackey's sense of responsibility kicked in. "W… we've got to get Sylia out of here," he reminded.
Leaving a blushing Nene to her makeshift breakfast, Mackey replaced the battery in Sylia's hardsuit even though she continued to lay unmoving on the stairs. He figured if something happened along the way, it would be prudent to have another powered hardsuit just in case… assuming Sylia regained consciousness anytime soon to do anything with it.
Nene was through the bag of chips before Mackey was finished, replacing her helmet and lifting the two detectors onto a powered shoulder.
Once Sylia's battery was changed, he placed the helmet back onto her head… albeit not without reservations. They both knew that in the daylight, they had to take all available precautions to protect their identities. Nene lifted the White Saber onto her other shoulder.
"See you back at the pit," she called out to the young boy, gathering up the light and the bag.
"I'll be there a few minutes after you are," Mackey predicted.
"Don't keep me waiting," she playfully called back to him as the Red Saber flew up the stairs and towards the surface, Sylia in tow.
The obviously distracted man sat at his terminal, staring at the blank drafting screen before him. There weren't that many employees in the small architectural firm that his father owned, but Masaki had already heard the whispers from his co-workers.
"… dumped him for another woman …"
"… what's his problem …"
"… just sat there while she beat her up …"
"… well he seems normal …"
Ordinarily, he wouldn't let outside opinions bother him… but this was no ordinary situation. The crazy whirlwind of events over the last day left his mind and heart torn apart. After all the badly arranged dates he had been forced into, he thought he had finally found the right woman in Linna Yamazaki. Then a woman named Priss had rode over his life, and everything since had been thrown asunder.
Lost in depressed thought, he didn't notice the impending storm rumbling down the aisle towards him until the architect next to him yelled out in protest.
"Hey! Watch it!" the young man exclaimed as an older man carrying a jacket pushed him back into his cubicle.
Masaki whirled around in his chair just in time to see the jacket that he had left with Linna being thrown over his face, blocking out his sight. As he tried to pull the jacket off of his head, the air exploded out of his lungs from a vicious blow to his stomach. Masaki's blackened vision filled with stars as he doubled over onto the floor, hard fists raining down on him through the jacket as he fell.
"Are you finished yet?" one of the men who had pulled the attacker into one of the adjacent offices huffed out.
Hirata Yamazaki's breathing finally settled down after a few moments of struggling with the others he had no interest in hurting. He had gotten to the one he wanted, but the anger still boiled deep within him. "Depends on how many teeth he's picking up right now."
"Probably not as many as Yamada had to in that playoff game," a familiar voice spoke behind him.
"Tanaka?" Hirata turned his head towards him in surprise, since he couldn't move any other part of his body because of the three men currently restraining him. "Holy… It is you," he added in a disarming tone.
"I told you I was coming back to town," the man who appeared to be about the same age as the formerly enraged father answered with a smirk.
"Yeah, but you didn't say you were coming to work here."
"I didn't know myself until recently. I just started last week. I think you guys can let him go now," he spoke to his other two co-workers.
They both relaxed their hold, slowly just in case. After seeing the situation diffused for the moment, Tanaka gave a nod to tell the other men to leave them alone. The silently acknowledged, exiting the office room while shaking their heads in disbelief.
"So why'd you use the jacket? In the old days you would have just pulled the shirt over his head and then started pounding away," Tanaka asked with a straight face.
"I wasn't sure if he'd have it tucked in tight… and this former catcher didn't want to take any chances on missing," the elder Yamazaki announced proudly.
"Well, this pitcher doesn't remember you missing too many on the diamond back in high school. I wonder just how much Yamada's dental work cost anyway?"
Hirata laughed as the stress momentarily left his body. "You know, I never did find out. I bet he never charged the mound after getting hit by a curveball again."
"It hit the top of his shoe… I still don't know why he got so upset," Tanaka threw up his arms in mocked disgust.
"Maybe he had sensitive feet." Both men joined in a round of semi-riotous laughter at the shared recollections of past glories.
The new employee gathered his wits first and turned back to the present with a question. "So, why'd you take on the boss' kid anyway?"
Hirata's mood turned dark at the change in subject. "I found Linna pretty messed up this morning after her date yesterday. I owe him more for what he did," he grumbled.
"Is that her side of the story?"
"What do you mean! She didn't have to say anything! Her shirt was torn down the front… arms and legs scraped up… and… and…"
"So she didn't actually tell you though," his old acquaintance persisted. He was answered with the sound of teeth grinding. "Why do I get to be the bearer of bad news?" he mumbled to himself. "Look, I think there's a big misunderstanding unless everything I've heard is wrong."
Linna's father opened his mouth to protest before realizing who was speaking to him. He thought back to earlier in the morning, reviewing his actions. A couple of horrible scenarios came to mind and forced the experienced man to bow his head. "So… what'd you hear?" he nearly whispered.
"Well, if what I heard was accurate, I would've beaten him to a pulp myself it was my daughter he watched."
"Watched? Some other guy did that to her?"
"Not some guy. I heard from more than one person that it was another woman… and he just sat back while she threw her around like a rag doll."
"What… how… who was it!"
"Nobody that I talked to recognized her. She rode in on a bike and then afterwards rode back out. They said she looked like some city rat all dressed in leathers…"
An image instantly came to mind in Hirata's memory… of a woman in a hospital. A dreaded feeling crept over him that there was more to this story than he really wanted to know.
"So they did finally come up," Mason commented expectantly.
"Yes, but we received no indications that they found the target," the operative spoke from the other end of the videophone at the executive's desk.
"More problems then?"
"It appears likely. Our lookouts confirmed the boy leaving with some kind of detector and a bag, possibly spare parts."
"What was the condition of the hardsuits when they came back?" the pale skinned man questioned.
"They appeared intact from the outside, but the red one was carrying the white one all the way back to base."
Sylia… it looks like I won't be able to depend on you after all… "Very well then. Mobilize our own team and prepare for operations," Mason ordered.
"Yes sir!" the operative replied, screen blinking out afterwards as well.
Mason thought about the risks he was about to undertake, and the possibility of premature discovery of his operations was the main reason for having the Knight Sabers conduct the search for him. They had tried admirably, but failed. Now he would finish what they had unknowingly started… and Mason would let nothing or no one get in his way now. Just then, a knock at the door drew his attention away from his plans for the moment. "Yes?"
One of his artificial assistants opened the door and walked to his desk. "Quincy would like to have a few words with you at this time, sir. He mentioned that it was very urgent."
Impossible! "Tell him I will be right there," he replied through gritting teeth.
"Yes sir," the boomer replied and exited the room to carry out her assigned task.
The restaurant was mostly empty due to the early time, still nearly two hours from the lunch crowd. As a result, the silence between the two men who sat in a booth appeared to permeate throughout the establishment. They both nursed alcoholic beverages in quiet introspection. Finally one of the two spoke up.
"Thank you for not pressing charges now. I wouldn't blame you if the desire struck in the future though," the older of the two admitted.
"No. I'm already the king of the water cooler conversations now," the younger blond haired man spoke up.
"You can understand if I have a hard time believing everything you just said."
"Of course… I'm not sure if I believe it myself. I've never had… that… happen to me before."
Hirata winced at the implied meaning of the words, and of the internal questions they raised. "You're sure Linna didn't want her to go?"
"She was pleading with her… practically begging her. All the time… Priss… just kept verbally ripping her until she finally threw her down. But… Linna kept coming back…"
Priss… That name sounded familiar to Hirata from the hospital. Maybe Misa mentioned her? he reasoned as he tried to connect the face he remembered with the name Masaki had just used.
"How is Linna doing now?" Masaki asked with genuine concern showing through his voice.
Linna's father grunted at the pained recollection of finding Linna drunk and sleeping outside just a few hours previous. "That's why I charged you so hard. She was still pretty messed up this morning."
"She never talked to you about it?" the younger man guessed.
"She never talks to me about anything anymore," the elder Yamazaki answered, realizing he had admitted more than he probably should have. "She probably told her mother, but she didn't let me in on it either. Probably figured she would get up before I would this morning."
"Well, I wish she would have…" Masaki added with a slight chuckle while rubbing his sore ribs.
"Again, I'm sorry for causing you so much trouble."
"It's OK. This pain is nothing compared to what I've been going through since yesterday… and I'm sure it's worse for Linna right now."
The turn in conversation back to his daughter brought a new sense of determination to Hirata's mind. "Excuse me, but I must be going now."
"You're going to talk to her now?"
Linna's father simply nodded in response and walked out after paying for the drinks.
Masaki watched as the man walked off, mentally reviewing the storm that had struck him before… and pondering the fact that as bad as that had been, it would probably pale in comparison to the one that was about to come crashing into the Yamazaki household.
Quincy Rosenkreutz looked the tough executive over with the quiet confidence from years of corporate battles fought and won. "So Mason, tell me why the Showhamm project is so low on your priority list these days," the part man, part machine demanded of the suited one standing before him.
"There is nothing more important than Showhamm, Chairman," the scheming man played carefully.
"Then why have you diverted valuable resources away from the project?"
"Which resources would you be referring to Chairman?" Mason continued along his planned path, holding as many cards back as possible.
"Don't play me for a fool Mason. I've squashed many bugs bigger than you before. The resources you tried to deploy to completed sections of the dragonline network have already been redirected to other more important tasks." The genuine shock that registered on Mason's face almost brought a sense of accomplishment to Quincy's mad mind, except he had much more ambitious dreams to achieve than simply correcting the behavior of his top executive. "Before you leave, realize that I know more about your plans than even you do Mason… I suggest you meditate on that for a while before I see you again first thing in the morning."
The defeated man left the horrid chamber with shaken resolve. Once through the door however, he realized the most important point of Quincy's bluff. If you really knew what my plans are old man, I'd be dead right now.
Misa glanced over to her daughter riding in the passenger's seat of the car. She still looked to be lost in a different world. That's exactly what the therapist had said as well… before Linna had prematurely ended the pre-planned session with a rather inflammatory series of remarks. That coupled with the silence that followed the long ride home made Misa rethink her decision to follow through with the appointment.
"You know you could have been a little more cooperative with the doctor Linna."
The hum of the engine answered her comment.
"If you don't cooperate with the specialists, your company will stop paying for them."
"Good," she sharply retorted through her lingering headache.
"Ah, it speaks!"
Only the wind rushing outside laughed with Misa.
"Look Linna, since Hugh Geit is supplying the help, why don't you at least try and work with them. You never know, it might actually help."
"Why bother."
Misa hands began to shake on the steering wheel. She nearly pulled the car over but realized they were too close to home to stop now. "That's not the Linna Yamazaki that I know talking. That's not the woman who came back from a knee injury to take second place at the section track meet her senior year."
Tires rubbing the worn pavement agreed with her as Linna continued to blankly stare out into the countryside.
"You've never given up on anything your entire life Linna. You certainly didn't quit when that doctor said you'd be lucky to walk without a limp much less compete on the track again," Misa continued to preach until a bitter voice cut her off from the other side of the car.
"That's before I was told I had a ten percent chance of something resembling normal… and that's only if I go through some experimental surgery," Linna spat out through watering eyes. "I've got a better chance of serious complications than anything else out of their suggestions… and I'm supposed to try and work with them! " she nearly screamed out before falling back into the throes of depression. "And you know the worse part… I keep thinking that this ten percent is all I've got left to live for. I screwed up my chance with things in Tokyo… I've ruined everything I've had here… I've… I…" she finally broke down completely, turning back towards the window in choking sobs of emotional agony.
It was Misa's turn at silence this time, as the depth of her daughter's pain left her speechless. After a few minutes she finally began to respond. "Most of this is because of Priss, isn't it?"
The mention of the singer's name caused Linna to wince, but did manage to focus her thoughts enough to attempt a reply. "Yes… No, not really... It's not… she's just… part of it. I… really screwed things up… with Masaki," she sniffled out as she began to piece together all the fragments.
The mention of the man's name surprised Misa. "What really happened?" she asked softly. Linna still hadn't talked with her over any details of what happened the previous day. All she knew was that Priss had shown up and Linna was much worse for wear because of it.
Before Linna could answer, she noticed that they were home as her mother pulled into the driveway. The sight of a familiar car distracted Linna from her train of thought. "Dad's home?"
Misa hadn't bothered to try and talk to Linna again about her father leaving this morning since she wasn't completely sure why herself. Plus she was too worried about helping her daughter recover from her activities much earlier in the morning to try and discuss it with her. "He usually doesn't come home for lunch," she reasoned aloud.
She parked the car as they both got out, Linna still walking on unsteady feet as Misa helped her up the stairs to the door. They both entered the house to find Linna's father sitting on the couch waiting for them… holding Linna's torn shirt in his hand.
"What are you doing home?" Misa asked shakily, almost fearful of the answer as she stopped beside her daughter to stare at the man who despite his familiar dress and outward appearance, seemed more like a stranger for some troubling reason.
Hirata ignored the question as he rose up from that couch and strode directly up to a stunned Linna. "Can you explain to me why, in the middle of town, you would turn your back on your date to argue with another woman… who then would do this to your shirt?" he fired out with voice rising while holding the object in question out in front of him.
Linna would ordinarily never back down from an argument, especially with her father. But, after all that had happened in the last day, she was in no shape to fight with him now. She turned her head, hiding from the glare he was directing into her face.
Hirata stepped around to look directly into her face. "Well?"
Linna gritted her teeth as she raised her eyes to match her father's stare. "What do you…" she started to fire back until her mother cut her off sharply.
"No! She's not answering that question right now…" Misa shot back, putting a hand between the two would-be combatants. "… not until we talk first," she glared into her husband's face. "Linna, please go to your room," she ordered.
Linna's protesting look was overmatched by the intensity in Misa's own eyes. She bowed her head, quickly storming off to her room, closing the door behind her.
"So what do you have to say?" Hirata chided in a cold tone.
"Not here," she answered simply, heading off to their own bedroom on the opposite end of the spread out house.
Hirata reluctantly followed her lead, more interested in answers than with trying to make a statement by fighting over trivial matters. After both entering the room, the door closed giving them relative isolation from the rest of the house… and Linna. After a few minutes though, it wouldn't matter if anyone was on the other side of the house or just on the other side of their door… the screaming could be heard throughout it all…
The computer on the executive's desk was filled with images of the ones he had tried to use before, only to have their help fail him in his time of need. Perhaps they need a little push to get started again, he planned out sinisterly.
The main obstacle at this point though wasn't the Knight Sabers internal conflicts… it was in the form of one Quincy Rosenkreutz. How much he really knew of his plans Mason couldn't be sure. However, the executive realized that his normal avenues of information gathering weren't available to him. Thinking further, his boomers were trustworthy, but might draw suspicion and were generally easy to track without modifications. Besides, he had other plans in mind for his boomers…
On the other hand… an employee who's been reprimanded and specifically told to 'meditate' wouldn't be too out of place in a seedy establishment… Mason thought to himself as he read a file on one particular member of the group he was interested in. The name of that establishment written on the screen in front of him was "Hot Legs"… and Mason was too deep into his plan to trust anyone else for such a crucial move. It would be a much more prudent idea to scout out the territory in person…
The brown haired woman lay face down on her bed, trying desperately not to hear what her ears couldn't help but pick up through the all too thin walls of her home. She put her hands over her ears to successfully block out the noise. Unfortunately, after a few minutes, her arms tired out. As she rested her limbs, she discovered silence filling the space of her room. Linna sat up, wondering what had happened. Suddenly the booming voices picked back up again, breaking the lull and frustrating the young woman past wit's end.
She folded over, head falling into her hands as she rubbed the sides of her face to help relieve the stress building from within. It's my fault… again… still fighting over me… It had been an underlying fear that her own problems would eventually drive her parents apart. Now those fears appeared to be coming to life as the screaming continued at a torrid pace, driving tears from her pale violet eyes. After a few more minutes of torture, she couldn't take any more.
Flying out of her room and out of the house, she ran towards the back of the property, stopping by the same supporting tree she had leaned against just before her walk to the pond with Masaki. With her feet still, she listened to the relative quiet of the summer shade, her parents arguing voices but a black cloud hanging on the back of her memory. That black cloud wasn't about to dissipate though. Chills ran up and down Linna's spine at the situation she knew she couldn't escape. She dreaded the fact that she would eventually have to go back in the house and face the horrid aftermath.
Linna folded her arms protectively over her pained midsection, flaring up she guessed because of the sprint out of the house, or perhaps from the aggravating stress. As the chills continued to coat her skin despite the warmth of the outside air, they penetrated to the bone, causing her to clutch herself even more tightly. She started to lean on the tree for support… the tree that had stood tall for as long as she had been alive. Her subconscious told her not to trust its support though, fearful that it might crash to the ground as well… just like everything else in her life that mattered in the last week.
She stood like that, shaking, isolated, alone, for what seemed like an eternity, confidence shattered.
"Linna!"
The sharp voice of her father from behind her shook the fragile frame of her body even further. She blinked out more tears as the sound of approaching footsteps behind her rose out of her sniffling sobs. Terrified at the possible outcomes of their argument, Linna couldn't bring herself to turn around to face him.
"Linna…"
The proximity of his voice caused the hairs on the back of her neck to stand, but at the same time, there was a disarming tone that drew her around to look into his face. Linna didn't recognize the man standing before her as her father. She couldn't remember the last time she had seen him cry, which he obviously couldn't help since the tears were falling faster than he could wipe them away. Her heart began pounding as the sight of her mother standing just behind him, tears falling from her face as well gave Linna hope that they had somehow worked things out. Then her father began scolding her.
"Don't ever put on one of those hardsuits again without telling me first!"
The expression on Linna's face contorted wildly at the meanings behind his admonishment… before he reached out and pulled her into a genuine, heartfelt embrace. Tears fell on both shoulders as the bond between father and daughter was reestablished. "I… I'm sorry," were the only words that would come to Linna's quivering lips.
"I'm just happy you're alive," Hirata comforted as he continued to softly cry.
As the two leaned on each other for support they were joined by a misty eyed Misa, who held on to both of them tightly.
The reunited family stood together under the sheltering tree, supporting branches protectively outstretched to filter the summer sunlight. Just above them, one smaller branch grew at an odd angle from of a large one, stretching out its lone leaf to the sky. An ugly scar covered one section of the small branch, perhaps from a bud torn off during a storm in the spring. The larger branch continued to hold the smaller one upright, stretching out its own leaves to provide some shelter for its small offspring... giving it a chance to grow as best as it still could.
The crowd was abuzz with energy, sensing the fury about to be unleashed within the enclosed space. It was almost if they could somehow feel the anger within the lead singer even before she took to the stage. With lights dim, the band marched under the cover of darkness, preying on the expectant mass of humanoids beneath them.
A blinding flash of rainbow colors coupled with the grinding of the heavy axe set the stage on fire, driving the crowd into a frenzy of adrenaline laced chaos. Priss reveled in that chaos feeding off of it, letting it fill her soul. Then leaning hard into the mic she returned the gift back onto the crowd, vocal chords shredding the last remaining vestiges of order from the exploding building.
The former Knight Saber let everything out, emptying her mind, body, and soul onto the stage, calling on the rage within her hardened heart to give her the strength to perform this night. The myriad of highs, lows, and everything in-between that she had been through the previous days flowed through her being and into the speakers surrounding the stage. She belted song after song over waves of sound, crashing down onto the worshiping throngs of people below.
The crowd whipped into a whirling mass of intensity at her fingertips, falling under the spell she cast out through the electricity in the air. The bouncers struggled with the surging mass as the establishment filled past the brink of insanity and spilled into the streets, word spreading throughout the district of the event occurring at Hot Legs. Soon even the street around the club filled with onlookers hoping to get a glimpse of the near mythical performance ongoing inside.
Priss continued to hammer out note after note, ripping into the dying line of people in front of her, letting the bouncers drag them onto the street, others taking their place in line, waiting on their turn… she was more than happy to oblige them. Still, even as she tried to pour out all that she was, something held back. Through all the metal grinding, fist pumping thrashing lyrics she screamed out, something still held back. Even after all the legendary cover songs, the encore, and the second encore, something within her still held back.
Even though her heart knew what it was, her body continued to pump out the energy, vainly trying to relieve that something within her… although her mind realized there was only one way to do it. Priss shuddered in-between encores as the thought of what her mind was planning played in her mind. She looked over the band and saw the end, understanding that this was their last song. They stood onstage together one final time, playing one last song… a favorite around the club from an old group named "The Replicants". Once finished, Priss nodded to her bandmates after a couple of bows, but held her ground under the lights. The crowd quieted under a semi-drunken state of confusion as the singer threw off her signature red jacket, pulled the mic up to her lips and began a solo ballad.
To anyone else, the song was simply about two friends, co-workers or bandmates perhaps, finding common interests from vastly different backgrounds. Those two friends worked alongside each other, fighting a common cause for different reasons. Finally, an accident driving the two friends apart to their different lives… until both realized their differences were drawing them together.
To anyone else, it was just a simple song of two people finding a common love between them… anyone else except for one person standing above the crowd… one person who had finally made his way to the front of the stage. Leon gazed up into the brown eyes of the woman he had fought so hard to find out about over the last week. Once Priss had started the ballad, he knew… he understood everything now. The joy of relief at the discovery was balanced by the words he heard from the woman he wanted so much to get to know… the words that spoke of love for another. His heart sank at the revelation.
As she neared the end of the song she had worked so hard on just one day previous, Priss hung on to consciousness hard as she could. Her body was driven past the brink by the encores, and her mind had long since shut down from the effort to maintain her focus. The only thing still keeping her upright was her broken heart, singing itself out of existence. As she finished the last lyrics she had completed before finding Linna in the arms of another person, her heart reached out through her eyes and focused onto the tall man standing just below her. The familiar eyes of the man she didn't want to fall for, had fought so hard to avoid, locked onto hers in a death spiral… pleading eyes begging her not to drive off the bridge once again… calling her back… back from the brink.
Without the aid of her mind or body to hold her back, her jaded heart improvised the rest of the previously uncompleted song. Firing out the last lines of bitter betrayal, the stunned crowd swooned with the unexpected ending… almost mirroring the shock of understanding tattooed onto Leon's face. As a last repentance, the singer looked directly into the eyes of the man before her and with a simple twist… opened up to him and relented control of her emotional ties to the past.
The song finished, the silent crowd stood together in awe for a few moments, before a deafening roar of approval blew down the walls and flooded the stage with praise. It was a magnificent performance to most, an incredible revelation to another, but to the shadow of a man in the back, it was the missing pieces of the puzzle he had been looking for. The out of place clothes he wore were expertly hidden in the crevices of the building… almost as if he always dwelled just beyond the usual reach of society, only to lash out when least expected.
That man went unnoticed by all, but especially by Priss. The singer wasn't noticing much of anything anymore. The pulsing crowd before her wavered in her vision as she leaned hard against the mic stand for support, completely drained of all she was… heart, mind, soul, and body… she had left it all on stage. Unable to steady herself, her vision suddenly filled with stars. She tipped backwards slightly, overcompensated, then fell forward… towards the mass of people below.
The bouncers were too busy keeping order by the stage to help, their focus out towards the crowd but not up on stage at that moment. The band was already in the back, showering up and getting ready to relax in the small lounge.
Priss' body spiraled downward, vision filled with stars and the floor of the stage… letting the blackness take her away from it all. A sudden surge spun her around, righting her before she could hit the floor. Her eyes focused momentarily, curiosity briefly winning out over the void calling her name. She looked into the overhead lights and could barely make out the face of the one whose arms she had fallen into… before the depths of exhaustion won out. As Priss fell from consciousness, her heart, mind, and soul took comfort from the knowledge that her body rested in the arms of one Leon McNichol.
To be continued…
