To yellow 14 and Butterfly: They definitely needed a moment just to process what had happened.
The next morning, Kagami woke up with her head pillowed on what had to be Luka's arm as he traced delicate circles on her shoulder with his free hand. She nestled into his embrace, hugging his chest, refusing to open her eyes. She needed to sneak back to her room before anyone found them, but she didn't want to wake up, didn't want to leave his embrace. The previous night had been so late, and she was so tired… her dreams had been so confused. She inhaled deeply, expecting to smell the familiar scent of Luka's deodorant. Instead, she smelled the equally-familiar faux-leather of his miraculous suit. Her hands on his chest were gloved – the fingers caressing her arm were also gloved. They were both transformed. Suddenly what had happened and where they were came back to her all at once. They had infiltrated a Yakuza hideout. Shiro had nearly been killed. Ojisan really had been murdered. They sleeping on an old couch, hiding in her father's old apartment. None of it had been a dream. Ryoku's eyes shot wide open, and she stared up at Viperion, who was watching her pensively.
"Good morning," he whispered, pressing his lips to her forehead. She tensed and let out a heavy breath. He nodded and ran his fingers through her hair, pulling her closer and resting his chin on her head. "I know: not exactly 'good'."
"I can't believe…" She sniffed, clenching her eyes shut. "What are we supposed to do now?"
Viperion shrugged. "I'm not sure," he admitted.
She leaned back to meet his gaze and chuckled humorlessly. "You're always the one who knows what to do," she pointed out.
He shook his head, sighing heavily, and placed his forehead against hers. "Not this time. I can't exactly rewind and fix this."
"I know. It's just…" She fell silent. Nothing she said could make it different. Nothing she said would bring Ojisan back.
"We'll get through this together," he promised her, squeezing her shoulder, hugging her tightly.
She hugged him back and buried her face in his chest, waiting for the tears to return. But they wouldn't. Finally she relaxed her grip on him and pulled back to meet his eye, nodding with a firm set to her jaw. "Yeah…" She frowned. "But we don't keep this apartment stocked at all. We need food. And clothes –unless you had the time to grab some from the house last night."
He shook his head. "Everything else seemed a little more important," he admitted. "I was going to go shopping as soon as you woke up. I have my credit card on me at least, and I don't know if the Yakuza can track that kind of thing, but even if they can, hopefully they won't connect me to you or your family."
"Thanks." Ryoku sat up and stretched her neck in both directions, rolling it to relieve the tension. Her elbows dropped onto her knees and she slumped forward, closing her eyes. Viperion sat up, shifted to sit behind her, and put his hands on her shoulders, kneading the muscles under her shoulder blades and on the sides of her neck, gently at first but steadily increasing the pressure to work out the stiff muscles from her uncomfortable sleeping position. Slowly she leaned back into him, and he wrapped his arms around her. "I'll keep an eye on everyone here until you get back," she finally told him, sitting up. "The sooner you go, the smaller the crowds will be at the stores."
He gave her a kiss as they stood up. "Be careful, babe."
She nodded seriously and raised an eyebrow. "You be careful; you have the more dangerous part of this."
"I'll be back as fast as I can." With that he slipped out the apartment door and turned toward the stairwell and the roof access.
Ryoku sat down on the couch and drew her sword, examining the hilt carefully. The wind and lightning emblems were dark; she had used them both last night – not that the lightning had done anything for her uncle. Her fist clenched, trembled, and she closed her eyes, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall now that she was alone again. She hadn't seen her aunt and uncle in years – not since moving to Paris – but they had been close before then. Whenever she would spend a weekend with them, Ojisan had let them stay up late to watch anime – or at least hadn't said anything to send them to bed. Ojisan and Mother had both pushed her to excel in her fencing and kendo, but Ojisan had been far more encouraging and far less demanding about it than Mother.
The bedroom door creaked open behind her, and Ryoku turned her head slightly to find Shiro trying to tiptoe across the hallway to the bathroom. "You realize our hearing is far more sensitive with the miraculous, right?" she asked him, arching an eyebrow.
Shiro paused, grimaced guiltily, and looked around the front room. "Where did your partner go?"
"He left a couple minutes ago to pick up some supplies. It's just us for now."
His eyes drifted to the window opening out on the street below. "What if they come while he's out?"
Ryoku shrugged. "Bad news for them, I guess: he's the planner, but I'm the fighter. And I could use an excuse to let off some steam." She gave him an evaluating look. "Besides, I've got you here. Though I can't say I'm impressed. You could've made a better showing in your fight last night. Don't you study kendo?"
Shiro narrowed his eyes at her. "Are you blaming me for my father's death and my family being on the run?"
"From where I'm sitting, that would seem to be the case," she retorted heatedly, eyes lighting up in anger.
He stalked closer to Ryoku and folded his arms. "Do you want to put that to the test?" he demanded.
"Any time you're ready," she shot back, her grip tightening on her sword.
"Right now." Shiro stalked across the room and grabbed his katana from the corner where he had rested it the night before. Whirling around, he held it up in both hands with the blade pointing at Ryoku.
She eyed the tip dispassionately before returning her gaze to his face. "On the roof so we don't disturb the others," she decided.
"Fine." Shiro spun on his heel, threw the door open, and stormed out.
After a minute, Ryoku pushed herself up off the couch, sheathed her sword, and followed him outside and up the stairs to the open roof door. Stepping outside, she barely had a moment to take in the sun just starting to become visible above the skyscrapers when Shiro leapt at her with a yell, bringing the katana blade down at her head. Ryoku quickly drew her own sword and whipped it around, parrying his blow with the side of her blade and swiping at his chest with the edge. He sprang back away from her, and her sword came within a hand's breath of his chest. He swung again at her legs, and she smacked the blade down to deflect into the roofing beside her. Before Shiro could react, she jabbed him once in the side with her elbow. Shiro stumbled away from her, rubbing his side where she'd hit him.
"Not so tough, are you?" she taunted, tossing her sword from hand to hand, glaring at him furiously. "Big bad Yakuza thug who turned on his gang and got kicked out?"
Shiro spun around, eyes aflame, swinging at Ryoku's chest. She jumped back away from him, allowing his strike to miss her entirely and pull him off balance. Stepping back inside his range, she smacked him across the back with the flat of her blade, directly above his still-healing wound from the night before. He let out a hiss of pain and dropped to his knee, planting his fist on the roof. "I couldn't do what they told me to do!" he shouted, staring up at her through narrowed eyes. "How would that have been honorable?"
"You claim to have honor after throwing in your lot with thieves and criminals?"
"I had no choice!"
"So you dishonor your family by consorting with these gangsters?" she yelled, spinning her sword around by the hilt and planting the tip on the roof, a meter from his hand.
"I was trying to rescue my family's honor!"
She scoffed. "And look what this has gotten you! On the run, your family in danger! How is this any more honorable than the loss of face for your company in needing a loan!?"
Shiro lunged forward, holding his katana with both hands and swinging from his strong side. Ryoku spun her sword around to parry the blow, and Shiro dropped it to evade her block and slip it in behind her leg, sweeping her off her feet. Ryoku moved with the strike, turning the momentum into a back flip, and regained her footing just as he took another slash at her throat. Dropping beneath the swing, she swept his legs out from under him, knocking him to the ground. Shiro grunted on landing on is injured back. But gritting his teeth against the pain, he rolled over to his front and pushed himself up. Ryoku spun a kick at the level of his waist which he evaded, her leg sailing harmlessly over his head. With her off balance, he leapt into the air, bringing his sword down straight at her shoulder with a scream. Ryoku stepped to one side and kicked him in the chest as he landed.
"It is your fault that any of this happened!" she shouted as he pushed himself back to his feet. He wobbled unsteadily, one hand on his stomach, trying to hold his katana up with the other. "If it weren't for you, your father would still be alive! Your family wouldn't be on the run! Do you deny it?"
Shiro's shoulders slumped. His katana dropped a centimeter. "No."
Ryoku's voice took on an ominous tone as she stepped closer. "So what are you going to do about it?"
Shiro let out a pained breath. His face hardened and his back straightened. His mouth set in a thin line, the only hint of his injury in the slight tightening around his eyes. "I'm going to obey my father's dying wish. I'm going to keep my mother and sister safe." He clenched the katana's hilt tightly. "And I am going to avenge his death."
She nodded and dropped into her fighting stance. "Now let's see what you've got." Shiro lunged forward, swinging his sword back at her, angling to sneak inside of her own sword. Ryoku watched the attack come, and slipped out of the way at the last moment, batting his blade aside. Shiro pursued, swinging again. Again she evaded. "You have to be quicker than that! Your opponent is faster than you! You must anticipate where I'm going to be!"
Shiro grunted in frustration and swung at her shoulder. Ryoku backed away, and Shiro lunged forward, turning his momentum around into another strike at her hip. Ryoku raised her blade to block his and nodded. "Good." She pushed his blade away and slashed at his weak shoulder. He raised his sword to block but turned it aside at the last moment, dropping low and leaning to the side, passing under the slash. The moment her sword was past, he pushed the blade away with his own, exposing Ryoku's side. He kicked her in the flesh right above her hip, and she allowed his momentum to push her around into a cartwheel before snapping back to her feet, her sword coming up to block his follow-up strike. She disengaged and nodded. "Better."
"You're definitely looking better than anything I saw last night," observed an unexpected voice. Ryoku turned to find Viperion sitting on the edge of the roof and watching them, several bags of shopping in his hands. "If you're finished, I have stuff for breakfast," Viperion told them.
Ryoku nodded, sheathing her sword. "First I need a shower."
"Are we finished?" Shiro wondered, giving both of them a troubled look.
She sighed. "For now," she agreed. "But we will revisit this again later."