"Gunslinger Girl" Series property of Aida Yu

Original Characters property of Author "Person With Many Aliases"

Indiscrete References are to their likewise respective properties.

A/N: This is it. This is the end. Probably not. But let's not get our hopes up. Counting eggs, and such.

I dedicate this chapter to Raiden from MGS. Poor guy.

And there's a Sheo Darren reference. Disclaimer or something.


The whistle blared. The Kid's Army was forced outside into formation, through disparaging shouts of their captors, and the buckles of their metal belts.

As they formed up, the captors walked passed each of them, shoving an AK-47 into each kid's arm. She thanked God Almighty that the army had run short of kids, and were forced to grab a girl from the pool of the kidnapped, essentially saving her from fate worse than death.

"Listen up, you stupid pieces of shit! The enemy is approaching. I expect each and every one of you to return here with ten people killed, or else you ain't eating! You fucking got it?"

"YES SIR!"

A few hours later, she found herself lying on her back, vision hazy, and her lungs filling with blood.

She couldn't move. Everything hurt too much. She wanted to cry out for a mother, but it would get her shot.

Footsteps stopped by her head.

"What about this one? We should just put her out of her misery."

"No. We should save whomever we can. We're not like them, damn rebels…using kids against us…"

A few minutes later, she was in a stretcher.


It's a shame we have to disappear! No one's getting out of here, ALIVE!

Person With Many Aliases presents:

"Non Existence"

A Gunslinger Girl Fanfiction


There is a certain set of buildings in the secret headquarters of the Handsome Men. All the Mechanical Bodies are prohibited from entering, Handlers slightly less so, but only because they were adults.

There a girl lived.

She watched from a balcony. She was pretty sure that White Pearl, as well as the others, didn't suspect that another would be watching them.

They stood grassy back lot, celebrating. In the center of it all was a silent, but no less bashful White Pearl, holding up a large revolver.

How long ago was it, when she heard a rumor of one of them being challenged to score 500 point? It seemed so long ago, when she heard the rumor from the doctors.

She wished she could join them. She couldn't. She was too different. Far too different.

She looked at herself in a mirror once. Almond eyes and dark skin and dark hair, and always perpetually dressed in a white gown and slippers. From what she read, that made her from somewhere… desert-like. Nothing like the rest of them.

They were chosen. She was picked up.

She never had a Handler. She wasn't intended to have a Handler. They just used enough of the Conditioning process to make her subject to everyone.

She even had to take her designation as her name.

"Black? It's four 'o clock. You should go before it gets too late." A doctor mentioned while passing by.

"Yeah."

The girl who called herself Black headed to the test chambers.


Black looked on in interest as one of the lab-coats pulled on a new skin over her muscles and carbon bones.

"What's this for?"

"It's a new skin we've been developing for the Handsome Men. It has flexible resin built in molecularly. Sort of like a hidden plastic layer."

"So it would make… the Handsome Men more resistant."

"Bullets will probably get though it, but it should stand up to simple bladed instruments or blunt objects. We've already tested the skin alone, but we've yet to see if the application to a Mechanical Body will change anything. Anyways, that's why you're here."

"The Mechanical Advancement Unit. Eternally sacrificing Black." She cynically celebrated.

"Don't speak like that, you're still very useful, even if you aren't being used to run around shooting people."

"But I'm always in the lab… I never get to see if I ever made any change…"

"Believe me, you've helped. Personally, I think it's better to participate in creation, rather than destruction."

"Debatable. After all, any successes you have on me will be used on the other Handsome Men, which in turn will help them kill more efficiently."

That stopped the doctor. He gawked, and then laughed.

"I guess you're too smart for me, huh?"

She shrugged.

"Anyways, let's get started."


The test was for the most part, successful. The skin could stand up to a bladed object at least one time, before another blow in the same place would pierce through. The resin made the skin a little stiff, though. It would probably take a couple of months before it would soften up (Which meant she would have to be tested again on the softer resin. Bah)

This was annoying. She just finally got used to her new ambidexterity, and now she had to get used to this.

Black sighed, as she entered the library, her left hand bandaged.

Black, nearly confined as she was, had a few things to keep her entertained. She had a whole library to burn through, and she always had time to go on the Internet.

She felt like the Internet today.

Moving through the electronic world, she often searched for things that happened in Italy. Her brethren always intrigued her, the Social Welfare Agency, which existed in that place. The other thing that interested her was the mind of the terrorist, the sworn enemy of the Handsome Men. Knowledge is power after all, and she wanted to know what exactly these people were willing to delude themselves into.

Of course, the websites for Italian newspapers always had, at one time or another, some story about "gang wars" which seemed to always consequently leave Five Republic members dead. (Ironically, this tended to create the idea that the Five Republics had a huge member-roster, since they were always being killed). It wasn't far to assume that SWA had a bullet in each and every one of the attacks.

These days, Black also read up on the Five Republics website, which called for freedom of northern Italy from the "disease of capitalism". The arguments were very good… but…

That Certain User always frequented the forums, using well-designed logic and reasoning to shoot down the budding aspirations of interested newbies.

Black admired this person. He or she was smart. Not only in way of knowledge, but also because the user had common sense to not bother with converting the Hardcore radicals. It was like watching a war of words on the Internet.

Black had watched this person everyday, before she finally had enough and decided to contact this girl herself.

Hello,

I've been reading your arguments on the Five Republics website for a while. I agree with your overall belief that Five Republics is in the wrong. Though I question, do you think that Five Republics itself is the problem, or do you think it is just merely the technique? Do you think that Five Republics can protest in some other form?

-Black

There was no threat in using her real name. It didn't even sound like a name anyways. A reply came a few days later.

Greetings.

I thank you for your support. I've been a regular at the site, though some times I wonder if I reach anybody. You are the first. However, I believe that Five Republics is beyond help. They are completely intermeshed with their technique. Five Republics, simply put, is just a terrorist organization. They should be crushed completely, because they will not change.

If you wish, we can continue correspondence over the matter.

-Claes.

So she uses "Claes", now huh? At least it gave a gender. Now Black could sort of envision a real person behind the voice.

You're certainly a forceful person. But even if 5R is so completely beyond help as you say, does that justify all the deaths over the news? Is arrest an option.

Don't mind me, I'm just being Devil's Advocate.

-Black

If I believe, most of the people on the news tend to be high-ranking members. These people do not change their ideals for anything. Lesser member, the little errand boys, if you will, can be disheartened rather quickly at the news of the death of their superiors.

Kill the Head, and the Body dies. At least in this case, this body can move on in life and get over it's own stupidity.

-Claes

Is that why you work so hard in trying to dissuade the new comers to the forums?

-Black

They are merely fresh-minded intellectuals who believe they know what they're saying. I am far more intimately knowledgeable on the activities of this particular terrorist group.

-Claes

So, you're some sort of conspiracy theorist?

-Black

No, I merely have friends who are dedicated to cracking down on them.

-Claes

Carabinieri?

-Black

A more specialized group, but a few members hail from there.

-Claes


Sorry, haven't talked to you in a while.

Don't mention it.

I've been busy these past few weeks. That medical program I'm part of had a new big project, so it was stressful.

At least you're talking now.

Say, how are things over there with your friends?

Fairly well. We might be hitting a big break.

And you're going in with them?

Not really. I told you, I'm more of a bookkeeper, a person who keeps to the background.

How funny, we're alike in that way, I guess. My colleges tend to take the bigger part of the credit, too.

And they say that only opposites attract

Very aptly put.

Curious.

Yes?

For all our correspondence, we've never really spoken of each other beyond our professional life.

Well, I guess I can say that I'm mostly live for my job, really. Can't do anything else but work.

Likewise. I have much spare time, but most of it always ends up relating back to my work, in the first place.

Do you have any hobbies?

I garden.

Is it fun?

It is rewarding, to say the least. With my work so often dedicated to the elimination of terrorist elements, it is not often I have time to create, instead of destroy. You are lucky. You work for medicine. You heal people.

I shouldn't say I'm much better than you. My medical program is funded by the military. Medicines I help test, end up being used for soldiers, so they can live longer to kill other people.

That is far too pessimistic a view.

You're right. We should stop thinking like this. I make medicine that saves people, and you work in your police unit to save people as well. It just seems that we're just closer to the killing than other people.

Comforting words, Black

Thank you, Claes.


Black laughed out loud at the story Claes was sharing with her.

"Triela was a wreck by the end of the week. She was so intent on keeping those pictures." Claes sighed.

"So what did you do?" Black inquired.

"I had to finally appeal to her stepfather on the matter. He bought Triela some nightgowns in return for the pictures." Claes explained.

"And she actually agreed?" Black was slightly skeptical.

"What can I say? She treasures everything he gives her."

"That was so funny! A picture of you in farm clothes…"

"It's nothing special really." Claes said with a dismissive shrug

"It must have been, if Triela was willing to practically risk her life and sanity for it." Black said through her snickers.

It took a while for Black to catch her breath. In the mean time, Claes took the opportunity to talk.

"Are you satisfied with your life?"

Black blinked and raised an eyebrow. "Why the sudden melodrama?"

"I'm just curious for your opinion, since we're so similar in the position of our profession. Neither of us are able to directly contribute to the front-line of our work, yet at the same time, we both know that is the place we cannot go."

"Well… I am happy. But sometimes… I'm also lonely."

"Lonely? But you speak of your colleges so intimately, I would have thought you personally know them." Claes pondered, confused.

Black shook her head. "Not true, actually. The project I'm part of… I'm sort of like a black sheep. I don't exist to them, and they never really questioned where all the new stuff comes from anyways. They just think it's just a bunch of scientists…. But I always watch them from afar… that's why…"

"Black… are you guinea pig of some sort?" Claes suddenly realized.

Black gave a bitter sound, "I know I shouldn't be ashamed… but yeah, I sometimes feel like I'm just a play toy. They get to have all the credit for saving people, but I'm not supposed to be noticed…"

"How similar we are…" Claes mused, "But I should also apologize. In some ways, I cannot understand. Even with my lack of front-line participation, I still am allowed to associate with my peers."

"You're lucky."

"Still in some ways, I also have things I wished to have along side my peers here. They have a family. I am, for the most part, orphaned."

"Really?"

"Indeed. It stings some times, as I watch them enjoy their company with their… parents."

"Claes, do you think sometimes we're mistakes?"

"Elaborate."

"We're both sort of like, replaceable. Blue collar, in a way. We do all the menial little things, don't get very far, not expected to do anything great. Sometimes I feel like I'm a scrap off the floor they decided to pity enough to make use of me…"

"Shut up. That's disgusting and defeatist." Claes snorted.

"But it's true, in some ways."

"Only if you view menial tasks as useless. We're important in our own way. We've been chosen to be part of something beyond just us. We may be still orphaned scraps off the floor, but at least we're still around. That means we're still valuable in our superior's eyes."

Black hummed at that thought. "I guess you can say we're a sort of foundation."

"Perhaps I may never be as useful, but I refuse to lie down and be completely useless just because."

"You're right."

"We must keep a tally of this."

"One day. It's great to know somebody like you, Claes."

"It is enjoyable to have a knowledgeable opinion like you, Black."

Black turned away for a moment, distracted by something. She turned back to her friend right after.

"Sorry. I've got to test something again. Talk again later?"

"Very well. In fact, we both like to read, yes?"

"Yeah?"

"Read something radical. Let us pick apart its logic together, the next time we meet." Claes challenged, sly smile forming.

"That sounds fun. I'll get something when I come back" Black replied, full on grin of companionship.

"I'll be waiting."


(BLACK has signed off)

(Claes has signed off)


I think, therefore I am, even if unnoticed.

Non Existence: End