Two days later, Safe House #4, 12:15 noon.
Ryuko shifted and sighed, scooting closer to the small kitchen table so that she could rest the entire length of her calves on the table instead of just her heels. She knew that today (the third day of her imprisonment) was the day it was supposed to be safe to leave, but she was filled with the sluggishness that comes with prolonged inactivity and didn't want to move.
The whole time she was there, she couldn't wait to leave. The small apartment was clean and well-furnished, but it looked like it belonged to a simultaneously weird and boring old man. The refrigerator was full of food, but it was what Ryuko had dubbed "gross food": eggs, granola, yogurt, carrots, something that looked like kale in the bottom drawer, etc. She had considered curiously the avocados in the fruit basket on the counter before opening all the cabinets. She was disappointed to find only a mix for a protein shake and a small tin full of dried leaves.
She would not be proud to admit that she had tried to smoke them. It was only after she had choked and nearly set of the smoke alarm that she realized it was tea.
It was also boring. There was no television, only a small bookshelf full of books. Weird books. Ryuko distinctly remembered picking up a book that was titled Critique of Pure Reason. She had screamed like she had seen a spider and threw it into the corner of the room. Her interest was piqued when she noticed that there were what looked like little doodles in the margins. But it had turned out that they were just tiny illustrations of chess boards with moves listed under them. Knight to king-bishop four, queen to queen-rook two. Boring!
Kiryuin Satsuki, she had thought, Why do I waste my time on you?
But her interest and attraction, bordering on psychotic, could not be quelled. She had found herself a few days ago staring like a fool at the magazine sporting Satsuki's image while waiting in line to buy milk and waffles. She blushed as she found herself wishing she had another magazine to stare at. She covered her face with her hands, feeling the heat of her flush.
Why does she have to be so goddamn beautiful?
But beauty was not enough to make Ryuko forget that languid arm rising to point her out in the crowd, directing those insane purple eyes to her. The heat in her face intensified as anger joined embarrassment. She jumped up, sluggishness dispelled, and slammed her palm against the table, making it shudder. She would never admit how much her unpleasant encounter with Harime Nui had shaken her. Even as she thought about it, her breath grew short and gasping as she remembered how helpless she had felt. Forcefully pushing down the lingering fear with rage, she grabbed her things and sped out the door, not bothering to close it behind her. She ran through the streets for a long time, her backpack slapping against her shoulders.
Dad will know that to do, she thought, I hope he's home. Maybe I should call him.
Ultimately, she decided not to.
xxx
Harime Nui was a born hunter. Not like a borzoi tearing all-out after a wolf, panting and slobbering. More like a leopard, stalking in the shadows after a cute little baby deer. She would trap it and play with it mercilessly before dragging it into a tree to eat half of it before leaving the dead body to fall on a passing tourist.
She had spent the day previous circling the building, looking for signs of life while discreetly flicking cigarette butts into every flowerbed she could find. It had to look like the doc was a filthy smoker. Nui chuckled to herself as she sat on the roof, swinging her legs. The estate was remote and far from any prying eyes, giving her more freedom for her exploits than usual. Slowly, she slunk behind the brick chimney as a car pulled into the driveway.
Man, what a geezer, she thought as she discreetly examined the old man in the lab coat shuffle into the house. I wonder what quarrel Mama has with this loser. She shrugged to herself, not much caring. When she was finished, someone would notice the explosion and call the police. Then, all she would have to do was sit back and wait for Ryuko to come rushing to her. She licked her lips.
She'll be so sad about her poor daddy's 'accident.' I'll bet I can make her feel better.
A suppressed giggle came out as a wheeze.
The things I will do to that girl.
She shifted and dropped lightly onto the kitchen windowsill below, balancing effortlessly on her farcically high heels. She slipped her measuring tape through the crack between the panes and flicked the latch open. In less than ten seconds, she flitted in, turned the gas on on the stove, and slipped out again, sealing the window behind her. She made a quick round of the house to make sure all the windows were closed before perching on the roof again. Sighing, she curled up on her side to take a nap, cooing happily as she thought of the good times ahead.
xxx
Pain, rage, fear. It wasn't healing. Why wasn't it healing? Nui heard herself screaming, cupping her hands over her left eye, gushing blood. The old man was dead (close enough), but the fucking bastard had cut out her fucking eye!
Oh, God, why isn't it healing? Barely able to see through her good eye, partially blind from pain, Nui stared at the purple scissor-knife in her hand before throwing back her head and thrashing it back and forth, her pigtails wet with blood. Pain was not a sensation she was familiar with, and, like the blind man who is suddenly given sight, she was overwhelmed and baffled with the new sensation.
She heard the door click open and a voice shouting in the foyer. Who was it? No one was supposed to come! Oh, God, it hurt! Nui panicked. She needed to get out. She wanted to go home and let her mom take care of her. Still, her gut clenched at the thought of abandoning her true mission. A sudden burst of pain washed the thought from her mind and, resolve crumbling, she slipped out the back door. She paused only to light a match and throw it into the line of gasoline she had previously spilled against the wooden door.
It's okay, she reassured herself, I still have time.
xxx
Satsuki answered her phone as she walked down the stairs to the foyer, holding the phone to her ear by pressing it between her jaw and shoulder because she was so comfortable with her hands thumbs up in the back pockets of her jeans. It wasn't often that she got to wear street clothes, and she relished the feel of the cotton on her skin.
"Yes, hello?"
"Miss Satsuki," Soroi croaked warmly. Satsuki smiled. Soroi had been like a father to her for years, taking care of her when no one else knew she needed to be taken care of. Her face twisted, though, as she realized why he was calling.
"Hello, Soroi," she answered crisply as she stopped on the landing to lean against the banister. "How is your nephew?"
"He's well," he answered slowly, meaningfully, "He told me to tell you that it might rain today, so to bring an umbrella when you go out."
"I will. Thank you." She hung up without ceremony. So it was finally finished. She didn't know whether to laugh or to cringe. The completion of her lengthy project meant that she finally had something to fight back with, but the thought of the trials necessarily involved with rebellion put steel into her gut and a frown on her face.
It's not time yet, she chastised herself for her hasty thoughts and turned her mind to other things. She looked down at the phone still in her hand and blinked at it, remembering. Ah, Matoi. If she's smart she's still alive. Hastily, she punched in the number she had received from Jakuzure and ran her hand over the silky wood of the railing, still loitering by the stairs. Her mind hummed sleepily behind her eyes, threatening to erupt and spill its stresses into her consciousness.
The phone rang for a long time before it was picked up and a shriek filled her ears. Satsuki's eyes went wide and her body tensed as she clutched the phone in both hands.
"Matoi? Matoi. Calm down, what's wrong?" For a while there was nothing but ragged gasping before a wet, angrily sobbing voice answered.
"Fuck you, Kiryuin," Ryuko gasped on the other line, kneeling in the wet grass as the heat from her burning home blistered her skin. She looked, her vision blurring, at her bloody hand as it clutched a large red knife. Her mind almost collapsed in on itself as she struggled to register that she had just pulled a huge half-scissor from her father's chest. Blood was everywhere, on her clothes, smeared onto her face, and the heat was too much. It suffocated her as her shock and anger rose up from her gut and choked out of her throat in a ragged cry.
"Stay calm, Matoi, I'm coming." Satsuki stepped down from the landing and strode hastily to the door. She knew from Nonon that Ryuko would probably be staying at her father's place on the outskirts of town, but from the sound of things, something had gone horribly wrong.
Nui, she seethed to herself, How did she move so quickly? Shaking her head, she bent over the umbrella holder by the door and rifled through the folds of the white umbrellas tucked in against each other. Her hand grasped the smooth hilt of the small blade and she pulled it swiftly from its hiding place.
Still listening to Ryuko pant and growl curses on the other line, Satsuki admired the perfectly-crafted black knife. Shiro, she thought, you've outdone yourself. She could finally step outside the door knowing that if she met Nui, she had a chance at protecting herself and those she cared about.
Do I care about Ryuko? she thought, unexpectedly. Yes, she decided firmly, before reaching for the doorknob. She realized with a start that she had left the sheath of the blade in the umbrella holder and she stopped and slid the knife back into the vase to connect with its counterpart, addressing Ryuko as she did so.
"Matoi, you need to get away from there. I'm coming to get you, but if you want to stay alive you have to hide. Matoi, are you listening? Whatever you do, don't -"
She stopped suddenly as she felt an arm snake around her waist, squeezing her forcefully. Another hand spread over her shoulder blades, keeping her bent over the umbrella stand.
"Are you making plans with a friend, Satsuki?" her mother, hummed, sounding pleased with herself. "Let me see." Satsuki moved as if to relinquish the phone before pretending to accidentally drop it, twisting her wrist so that the phone fell with a violent spin and cracked sharply against the marble floor. The screen shattered and went dark.
"I'm sorry." Satsuki murmured. Ragyo chuckled and casually wrapped a lock of her daughter's hair around her finger and used it to tug Satsuki into a standing position. As she was pulled up, Satsuki couldn't help but think about the blade still hidden and still in reach. She considered grabbing it and ramming it into her mother's eye, but, though the thought gave her great satisfaction, she steeled herself and let her arm go limp.
No, she reminded herself. It's not time yet. She fretted briefly about Ryuko before reminding herself that there was nothing she could do. She's strong. She'll make it. She has to. Ragyo let go of her hair and slid her hand into the neck of her shirt, making Satsuki shiver as the freezing fingers traced lazy patterns over her warm skin.
"That's too bad," Ragyo spoke softly into her hair, "but I need you here today." There was a peculiar, unfamiliar venom in her voice that made Satsuki pause. Her heart beat faster as she was released briefly and spun around before being pressed again into her mother's arms. Instinctively, she grabbed Ragyo's shoulders and pushed away, but Ragyo only chuckled and pulled her closer, her red eyes burning with mirth and lust. A large hand took Satsuki by the back of the neck and roughly kneaded the base of her skull, making her scalp tingle.
"Come with me," Ragyo purred, pausing briefly to lay a kiss over Satsuki's rapid pulse. "I have something to show you."
Satsuki felt her body go cold and numb, and as she was taken inexorably away, her mind's eye kept replaying the moment when she had released the hidden knife and relinquished all her power.
What have I done?
Miles away, Ryuko clutched her phone in her hand, staring at the pulsing "call ended" screen. The house behind her crackled as it burned, filling her ears with a roaring to match the howl of her blood in her ears. Fingers curling, her phone's screen cracked and splintered. Stiffly, she moved her eyes to the large scissor in her hand. Her mind flashed back and reeled anew at the sight of her father's face, twisted and animal beyond recognition with the pain of death.
What do I do?
xxx
I originally started writing this to help me write my thesis. I figured if I was already sitting down and in the writing mindset, it would be easier to plug away with my project. Haha, I'm stupid. All I do now is write this damn thing. That said (and realized), I'm torn on whether or not to continue this. I know people are reading this thing, and I know how annoying it is when people stop posting right at cliffhangers (seriously, that's infuriating!) But at the same time... well, anyway, at the very least, it'll be longer between updates. Sorry!
Also, I got a request to post this on Ao3, but I'm having trouble getting an invite, so for now you'll (whoever you are) have to put up with FF's annoying layout.